Sound of Pulling Heaven Down
by Blue.Rose.Marcella
Summary: Part III of the Spoby Trilogy follows SWY and SESOS, respectively . Spencer and Toby have taken their vows and are ready to begin a new life together. However, new drama succeeds in postponing their plans, as they must be supportive to their friends. With trials and tribulations abound, can their marriage handle all of these challenges?
1. Prologue

_**A/N**: Hey, guys! Welcome back! I've got quite a few ideas for where I want to go with this installment, but would still love to hear your input. I aim to please. _

_Let's get this disclaimer in right off the bat - **this story is Part III of a trilogy. To some degree, they stand as mutually exclusive. But I heavily recommend you read SWY and SESOS first, as you may end up being hopelessly confused about a few things if you do not.** _

_I'm planning on keeping the sexual content of this one down, due to recent decisions made by FFnet staff regarding the stringent requirements for an M-rated fan fiction. I've been hearing tell of several people losing their stories because their sexual content is more outlandish than what the ratings evidently allow. I had to take a look to refresh myself, and found that, indeed, ratings of 'M' only allow implicit sexual detail. _

_Now that I've been made fully aware, I will respect their rules. I want to be sure that I'm following the guidelines so that my story is not deleted from the site, and my account remains in good standing. I'm sure you understand! But please, again, follow me on Tumblr (bluerosemarcella *dot* tumblr *dot* com) and take down my email (makryka814 *at* gmail *dot* com). Send me a line with your contact info if you are interested in seeing more "detailed" writing from me, and I will be sure to share it with you that way (if/when the occasion arises) so that we are not breaking any rules. _

_Lastly, I hope you guys have checked out the 3 songs I've used as my titles. They are all fantastic and highly recommended. ESPECIALLY Side Effects of Sipping on Sunshine, one of my current favorite songs. Please let me know if you've decided to listen to them (they are all findable on YouTube), because I'm definitely curious at this point.  
_

_That was far more long-winded than I intended. Anywho, let's proceed!_

* * *

Sound of Pulling Heaven Down

_So rest assured I have the key to every opening,  
To every wishing well that's deep enough to dream...  
_

_...Make love like time and space is ending,  
While befriending fate's alluring way of putting us to shame._

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before,_  
_Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore._  
_I may be some sort of crazy,_  
_We may be some sort of crazy,_  
_But I swear on everything I have and more..._

_You make the sound of pulling heaven down..._

_- Blue October -_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"Hanna…" Spencer began slowly. Dangerously. Hanna recognized that tone anywhere. It was the very same voice she would likely use with her children someday, when she was trying very hard not to explode into tiny little flakes of outrage, getting prepared to unleash a heartily reprimanding diatribe.

Hanna followed her gaze and felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Though it only took seconds for her to comprehend and turn back to explain, Spencer had already disappeared out of the bathroom. She followed her in a panic, catching up quickly.

Spencer was stomping down the stairs, a very frantic Hanna at her heels. Hanna pulled on her arm desperately, attempting to placate her.

"Spencer! Please! You can't say anything!"

Spencer whipped around to face her as they paused on the landing, a wild expression in her eyes. "Hanna!" she declared brashly, "how could you let this happen?"

Tears clung to Hanna's eyelashes. She wasn't sure how Spencer would react, but she certainly didn't expect this. "I – I don't know! I didn't mean to – "

"Haven't you been taking your birth control?" Spencer hissed quietly.

Hanna faltered. "I…I forget sometimes…"

"Ugh!" Spencer growled, crossing her arms in frustration. "You _forget_?"

Hanna choked back a sob. "Spencer…I can't have you mad at me right now…I – I can't handle it…"

Spencer softened, but only slightly. "I'm not mad," she said, though her voice betrayed her words. "I'm in shock! This is how I react when I'm in _shock_!"

"Okay – okay!" Hanna agreed, grasping onto her arm. "Just calm down…okay?"

Spencer was massaging the bridge of her nose, deep in thought. "When was the last time you had a period?" she demanded.

Hanna looked harried, shaking her head. "I don't know! You know I haven't been regular ever since…you know…my problem…"

Her bulimia. She always had trouble saying it out loud. But recognition dawned on Spencer's face, alerting Hanna that she knew precisely what she was referring to.

"Please – don't go down there…"

Spencer shook her head apologetically. "This isn't something that can wait, Hanna. It's not right."

Hanna gulped, knowing deep down that Spencer had a point. She wasn't ready to face it, though. "I know…I just…"

Spencer was hurrying down the stairs once more. Hanna followed, unable to formulate a coherent argument as to why she should stop. She trailed her all the way into the den, where Toby and Holmes were laughingly cracking open a couple of beers. She braced herself for the impact.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Spencer cried as she burst into the room. Both Toby and Holmes turned to look at her, utterly perplexed.

"What's wrong?" Toby demanded. Holmes, however, was more focused on a tear-stained Hanna cowering behind her.

"Han? What's the matter?" he asked, standing to properly address her. Spencer was in his face in an instant, planting little punches on his chest with her tiny fists. He seemed more or less physically unfazed by this, a look of horror on his face as he tried to understand.

"How – could – you!" she hollered, only distantly aware that she was losing control of the situation. She was cognizant somewhere in her subconscious of the fact that she had no idea how to react, and her first instinct was to teach them both a very reality-inducing lesson. Perhaps it wasn't her place – but she was far from thinking straight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Toby called out, taking Spencer by the waist and hoisting her into the air. She flailed around in his arms.

"Tell him, Hanna! Tell him right now!" she commanded, struggling against Toby's hold. Hanna started crying all over again, unable to calm her racing thoughts enough to think of a proper way to explain the issue.

"Tell me what?" Holmes asked worriedly. The color had drained from his face almost entirely.

"I can't!" Hanna responded shakily.

"Yes, you can! You can, and you _have_ to!" Spencer argued as Toby placed her back on her feet, still clutching her shoulders firmly to hold her in place. "He has a right to know!"

Hanna took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. "No," she said quietly, "I'm not sure it's him that I need to be having the talk with."

Spencer froze, a look of complete and utter disdain marring her features. "Hanna…" she began, sounding horrified.

Hanna, seemingly gathering the strength needed to complete her task, turned to face Holmes. A look of frightened determination was etched into her face as she steeled herself for the words that would next leave her mouth.

"I don't know if it's yours…or if it's Caleb's," she admitted quietly. She looked down at her feet to hide her shame.

Toby's grip on Spencer loosened as he put the pieces together himself. "Oh, my God," he muttered, staring, flabbergasted, at Hanna.

Holmes hadn't quite caught on. If he had, he was ignoring his instinct. "If what's mine?" he asked slowly.

Hanna took a deep breath, then let it out in a loud _whoosh. _ "I'm pregnant."

At this, Holmes lost control of his legs, his knees giving out. Toby caught him in midair, trying to guide him back towards the couch. Holmes shook him off, however, recovering quickly. He was pushing gently past him to approach Hanna once more.

"Okay," he began carefully, evidently trying to ensure that his reaction was appropriate. "Okay. That's okay. We'll figure this out together…" He reached out to take her hand, brushing a wisp of wild hair out of her face.

Hanna looked towards the ceiling, a fresh batch of tears gathering at the base of her eyelids. "I love you…" she murmured. "That's why this is so hard…"

"What's hard? You can tell me anything, baby…"

She began sobbing outright at this outstanding display of unfailing support. He immediately pulled her to his chest, stroking her hair and whispering quietly to her to calm her down. Toby and Spencer stood stupidly on the sidelines, wishing silently that Holmes would understand the caveat of the entire situation.

"Derek…" she began quietly, "I was with Caleb hardly a month before you." She pulled back to assess his reaction, attempting to steady her breathing. "I…I can't be sure who the father is."

Realization hit Holmes like a barrage of bullets from a firing squad. He squared his jaw and slowly backed away from her, clearly turning over her words in his head. Toby had reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but stopped midway, as though unsure of himself. Holmes seemed to be searching for something profound to say, but was finding nothing appropriate.

"It's not your fault," he said at last, an ominously unnatural neutrality in his voice. It was as though time stood still, though it only took a moment for him to decide that he needed space. He slowly steered himself towards the door and out of the room. Toby looked apologetically at Spencer before turning to run after him.

Spencer surveyed her friend, who had collapsed into a hysterical heap against the wall. She looked so very small there, hugging her knees to her chest and crying with reckless abandon. She moved in quietly, squatting beside her to pull her in for a hug.

"I'm sorry I yelled," she said gently. "I just…don't know what to do…"

Hanna scoffed indignantly, wiping her nose on Spencer's blouse. For once, she didn't mind. "Yeah, well…that makes two of us."


	2. Don't Spill The Beans

_**A/N:** Let me address a couple of things really fast. _

_Firstly - I realized that I accidentally called Wren "Wren Kim" in the last installment. This is his name in the PLL books, and for some reason, I had a momentary mix-up. My apologies. _

_Secondly - a few of you are concerned that Part 3 will be Hanna/Holmes-centric. That is not my intention. If you read the summary, it states that we will be following how Toby and Spencer deal with this new stress in their new marriage. It will most certainly cause problems - but never fear. I wouldn't do anything to actually harm my babies. _

_However - if some scenes ARE Hanna/Holmes related, please don't get upset. I do treat these stories like they're an ensemble cast, and I enjoy it that way. I love Spoby as much as the rest of you, but I need to take breaks and go back and forth a bit sometimes to keep it fresh. Hanna and Holmes are supporting characters, but they will get attention occasionally. I'm sorry if this disappoints some of you, but please stick with me. If you've enjoyed the balance in the past 2 stories, this one will reflect much the same. _

_Thirdly - ummm, Spoby-almost-sex in episode 3x2? I about died when Veronica cock-blocked. Boo. Ah, well. Marlene promised that their first time will be sunshine and rainbows, so I suppose I can wait. _

_Lastly - thank you for all the wonderful reviews and alert sign-ups. I love you all so much. _

_Onward!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

The next two weeks were an absolute nightmare. Spencer had fully intended on coming home from her honeymoon to a fresh, peaceful chapter in her life. She had hoped to return to classes and carry on with the routine she was so comfortable with, rejuvenating after the insanely stressful wedding planning. She had planned to spend quality time with Toby, basking in the novelty of being a married couple.

Instead, she had spent a good deal of her time trying to support Hanna through her newfound turmoil. Things had been awkward, to say the least, between her and Holmes. And oddly enough, Hanna, herself, seemed to be the one causing a majority of the problems.

She had insisted on sleeping in her own bed again, which she hadn't bothered to do in at least three weeks. Spencer had witnessed the look of concern and confusion on Holmes's face during this discussion. He did not argue though – he simply declared that he understood her reasoning, and her need for space.

So after her first night in her own room – the day after her earth-shattering announcement – Holmes had decided to bring her breakfast in bed, complete with a bouquet of roses. Instead of being flattered, she had bawled her eyes out and launched the tray off the bed child tantrum-style.

If that wasn't annoying enough, Spencer had tried to talk her into calling Caleb to let him know what was going on. Hanna had blatantly refused, insisting that there was no need to tell him anything until she was sure of her conception date. Spencer understood her position in the end. After all, why concern Caleb without having all of the information? So in turn, Spencer urged her to make an appointment. It took a great deal of flattery and groveling to make her agree.

So here they were, seated in the lobby of the OB-GYN unit in the University hospital. Spencer had broken dinner plans with Toby to accompany Hanna, and with every passing moment, was losing sight of why.

"Ugh…Spence…if I ever try to wear flannel when I'm seven months along, slap me, all right?" Hanna muttered, flipping through _Parenting Today_. "And crocs? What is that woman thinking?"

Spencer pinched the bridge of her nose to stay an oncoming headache. Though several crass remarks sprung to mind, she bit her tongue.

"How long is this supposed to take?" Hanna demanded, flopping the magazine back onto the end table irritably. "I feel like we've been here for hours."

"You're not the only one," Spencer mumbled darkly. Hanna did not appear to hear her.

A few more minutes passed before a portly male nurse emerged into the waiting room, clipboard in hand. "Hanna Marin?"

"Present," Spencer cried, leaping eagerly to her feet. Hanna begrudgingly followed suit.

"All right, Miss Marin, I'm going to bring you back and do your vitals, and the doctor will be with you shortly after that," the nurse began, gesturing in Spencer's direction.

"What? No – I mean – I'm not her," Spencer stammered, grabbing Hanna by the shoulders and shoving her forward. The visible pout on Hanna's face made Spencer want to instantly strangle her.

"All right, Miss Marin, why don't you come with me?" the nurse said, beginning to walk back in the direction of the double doors that would lead to the examination rooms. Hanna stood rooted to the spot, all of the color beginning to drain entirely from her face. Suddenly, she threw her hands up to her mouth.

"Excuse me – I'm going to be sick," she managed, before darting past Spencer and in the direction of the bathrooms down the hall. Spencer winced apologetically at the nurse.

"Morning sickness," she offered pathetically. The nurse was already attending to another patient, however, seemingly unfazed by Hanna's sudden nausea.

Spencer sighed, resuming her seat and picking up the magazine that Hanna had been browsing. There was certainly no way in hell she would be able to pay it any real attention, but her anxious hands desperately needed a distraction.

"Yes…just a box of syringes, if it's not too much trouble…we've run out down the hall."

The voice startled Spencer's senses, sending a barrage of renewed anxiety coursing through her veins. A voice so unique that it stuck out like a sore thumb nearly everywhere it went. She would know it anywhere. She sat utterly still, frozen, praying not to be noticed…

"Thank you, much appreciated," he said at last. She heard the soft padding of his footsteps retreating behind her. He came so close that his breeze wafted directly across her nose. The same goddamn cologne as he always wore.

The footsteps hesitated. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself for the worst.

"Spencer? Is that you?"

She fully considered just ignoring him. Or pretending to be somebody else. She happened to be quite good at faking a Russian accent. Maybe she could pretend her name was Svetlana, and she was the mysterious doppelganger of Spencer Hastings-Cavanaugh.

She even briefly entertained the idea of just booking it towards the door and never looking back. But she couldn't leave Hanna to fend for herself.

So instead she looked up, forcing the politest smile she could muster.

"Hey, Wren."

* * *

When Spencer returned home an hour later, she was positively spitting fire. Not only had she been forced to uncomfortably engage in superficial conversation with Wren Kingston for ten minutes, but had had to physically excuse herself to extract Hanna from the ladies room and bring her back to reality. Only, upon entering the rest room, Spencer found that all of the stalls were unoccupied. She had subsequently raced out to her car in the parking lot, only to find it abandoned, as well. Only a cowardly text message alerted her of Hanna's location. It simply read '_I couldn't do it. I'm sorry_.'

So when she came barreling through the door with every intention or ripping Hanna a new one, she had not expected to come across any new surprises.

"Hanna?" she bellowed, doing a quick sweep of the downstairs. Nothing. She stepped over a pile of misplaced suitcases, which she didn't have the concentration to be concerned about. "Hanna, I'm going to fucking kill you."

She took the stairs two at a time, seething. It was almost as if Hanna didn't _want_ to know anything about her pregnancy. Was she still in denial? Not likely. Maybe she was afraid of finding out who the father was? Spencer wasn't sure; all she knew was that she had about had it with trying to offer Hanna any more support. If she was going to continue completely blowing her off, then fine. She was on her own.

She threw open Hanna's bedroom door, oblivious to the fact that it careened noisily against the adjoining wall. "Hanna, what the hell is – "

Her sentence died quickly on her tongue as she surveyed the sight before her. Hanna was sitting tear-stained in her bed, hugging her childhood teddy bear tightly to her frame. Opposite her, sitting at the foot of the bed, was Caleb Rivers.

"Spencer, before you say anything, I'm _sorry_," Hanna sobbed, pushing away frustrated tears from her cheeks. "I'm just not ready, okay?"

Spencer had only a moment to consider how odd it was that Hanna was more concerned with addressing her disappearance than the phantom ex-boyfriend sitting casually in her bedroom. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, distantly aware of the door opening and closing downstairs.

"Spencer, please don't be angry with me," Hanna pleaded. "I really need you right now."

"Hanna…" she began stupidly, unable to form a coherent sentence. A newcomer took the words right out of her mouth.

"What the hell is he doing here?"

Holmes had entered the room, looking scandalized beyond measure. He had always been somewhat sore when it came to Caleb. He hated him for breaking Hanna's heart, and, moreover, for being in possession of her heart for so very long in the first place.

"_I _called him."

Spencer whirled around, meeting Toby's eyes. His arms were crossed determinedly as he leaned against the doorframe, face impassive.

"Toby," Spencer breathed, trying to calm the inordinate amount of thoughts racing around in her brain. "Why would you do that?"

"Because this whole thing is ridiculous," he proclaimed, taking a step forward. "I'm sorry, Hanna – I have nothing against you – but making my best friend walk on eggshells and wait around to figure out if he's going to be a father?...It's incredibly selfish of you. This needs to be solved, once and for all."

Spencer couldn't believe her ears. Evidently, neither could Holmes, who was staring ambivalently in Toby's direction. Probably torn between gratitude for protecting him, and anger for interfering.

"Toby," Spencer growled. "A word?"

Toby cocked an apathetic eyebrow, leading the way out of Hanna's room. Spencer practically pushed him through the door to their own room, slamming it behind her to face him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded. He was avoiding her eyes, his jaw squared in disapproval.

"Spence, you know how much I love Hanna," he insisted, "but Holmes has hardly eaten or slept in two weeks. I figured if I got Caleb in on this whole mess, Hanna would be more motivated to get her shit figured out."

"That wasn't your place," Spencer mumbled. "It's not your decision."

"You're looking out for your best friend…and I'm looking out for mine," he stated.

"You should have talked to me first," she protested.

He sighed heavily, taking a step in her direction and reaching for her hand. She backed away none-too-gently, eyes trained on the floor. She couldn't recall the last time she was this angry with him. It was requiring a great deal of effort to understand his perspective.

"Baby…c'mon. I'm sorry. If I'm being totally honest, I've seen how much this whole thing is stressing you out, too. I know you're worried about her, but it's not your job to take care of her. That's why she needs to figure out who the father is…so she has a solid, supportive companion by her side."

Spencer raised her eyes to his, her pride easily ignoring how hurt he looked. "What if it's Caleb? Huh? What do you think that's going to do to Holmes? He's going to be crushed. And _then_ who's going to be doting on their best friend?"

Toby made a thoughtful noise in his throat as he scratched the back of his neck.

"I guess I hadn't really thought of that. I sort of assumed it just _would_ be Holmes's."

Spencer exhaled heavily, collapsing into a sitting position on the bed. She cradled her head in her hands, fighting back the urge to cry. Toby gently approached her, rubbing tiny circles along her spine to comfort her.

"I know this is hard…it's been hard on all of us," he said quietly. "But sooner or later we have to make the very difficult decision of letting them work this out on their own."

Spencer huffed a little in amusement, reaching out to take him by the hips. "I certainly wouldn't mind not taking Hanna on any more doctor's visits," she stated wistfully. "I'd much rather not have anymore awkward conversations with Wren."

It was as though she had pushed a panic button. Toby's entire frame went stiff…cold. He lowered his eyes worriedly.

"Wren? Kingston?"

"Yeah," Spencer replied, instantly regretting mentioning him at all. "He works in the hospital there now, I guess…I ran into him while I was waiting for Hanna today."

Toby's gaze was fixated on the window, his face a mirror of distant memories. "Was he…I mean…was he a _gentleman_?" Spencer almost laughed at the way he said the word with such force.

"Toby," she declared quickly, pulling him down so that he was sitting beside her. "Please don't be like that. I've told you before…when Emily said I was seeing Wren, it was a lie. I was trying to make you angry with me so that you could let me go."

"And it didn't work," he replied. "Because I wasn't angry with you…I was angry with _him_."

Spencer smiled sadly, reaching up to cup his jaw in her hand. Making contact with his chiseled features sent butterflies through her stomach. "He was perfectly nice to me. Maybe a bit of a bore to talk to…but as nice as you can be without being _too nice_." She didn't have to elaborate on what she meant – she knew he would catch the drift.

He softened, turning his face to plant a kiss on her tiny hand. "I just worry," he offered. "When a guy has a wife as gorgeous as you, he has to be on constant lookout for pretentious medical douchebags trying to make a move."

Spencer laughed outright at this comment, unable to help herself. "Well trust me, Mr. Cavanaugh…when a woman has a husband as sexy as _you_, she's not paying attention to any of the douchebags."

Toby grinned, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her lips. She welcomed it, opening her mouth to allow him more intimate access. He moaned quietly against her tongue, craning her onto her back. She welcomed the proximity of his body gladly, running her hands beneath his shirt to dance her fingers across his well-defined hips.

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"But Hanna – you need to eat something – you look sick – "

"Yeah, let me run to the store for you. What do you want?"

"Do you want me to order you a pizza?"

"I _just said_ I'd go get her something. I'm the one with the car…"

"BOTH OF YOU! OUT! _NOW_!"

The sound of the slamming door finalized this conversation. Spencer and Toby broke apart, sighing dejectedly in the direction of Hanna's room.

"Is it going to be like this until she figures out who the father is?" Spencer whined desperately, running her fingers along Toby's cheekbone.

He offered a sad smile in reply. "I think so, babe."

Spencer groaned irritably. "If I have to sedate her and drag her in for that ultrasound myself, we are _going_ to get to the bottom of this."


	3. Breakfast Brawl

_**A/N:** Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait - and also sorry this chapter is on the shorter side. I started my summer camp job and it's been taking up a lot of my time. I will try to get another chapter or two up this weekend. As always, your encouragement most certainly helps to motivate me ;-) Hint hint! Hahahaha. No, but really - I will try my hardest. I've been mulling over what I want to do with the story for the past couple of weeks, so I have a lot of ideas to flesh out now. But - as per usual - your ideas are always welcome. _

_I'm going to put a disclaimer out right now - I don't intend to make Caleb look like an a-hole. I want to try to make this situation and decision as confusing for Hanna as possible. And in that vein, both guys must be good guys in their own way. Also, I don't want to stray out of character for him, either. Although - based on some of the shadier things he's been saying/doing on the show - I'm not sure that would be too far off-base at this point..._

_Anyway - enjoy!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

Holmes awoke the next morning to a heavy pounding in his brain. It was as though he had been flattened by a steamroller the day before, and every part of his body felt like a tub of Jell-O. With a brief bout of hope, he glanced over his shoulder to check for Hanna. To his unsurprised dismay, he found that he had, once again, slept alone.

It was a strange feeling, really. That in such a short amount of time he had fallen so heavily in love with her. The entire mess that they found themselves currently entangled in was breaking his heart more and more each day. He had always assumed that the day the woman he loved announced that she was having a baby would be a glorious occasion. Instead, the entire situation had turned into a cluster-fuck.

Part of him wanted to push her to get to the doctor and figure out her approximate conception date. The other part knew, however, that he needed to respect her desire to wait a bit longer. He had to remember that the news was just as – if not _more_ – shocking to her. She was struggling right now…and he had to be supportive in whatever way was best.

It took a great deal of effort to peel himself off of the bed and begin his sleepy trudge downstairs. It was Monday, after all, and he and Spencer were supposed to report to Introduction to Philosophy. Though he was in no mood to attend class, he was certain that she would ultimately guilt him into accompanying her. It was something about the way she folded her arms and lowered her eyes – glaring accusingly in his direction – providing some sort of passive-aggressive comment about spending five grand per semester only to flunk out.

He nearly collapsed when he reached the kitchen, surveying the sight before him. There stood Caleb, turning over several pieces of bacon in a frying pan, seemingly quite involved in creating a five-star breakfast. A bowl of scrambled eggs sat idly by, beside a stack of pancakes and a glass pitcher of freshly-squeezed orange juice.

Holmes couldn't find his voice. Caleb noticed him out of the corner of his eye, suddenly appearing far more self-conscious than before.

"Hey."

"Hey," Holmes agreed uncertainly. He snuck past him delicately and to the fridge, unearthing a bottle of cold water. He leaned against it as he sipped, unable to tear his eyes from the scene.

"What are you doing here?" he asked at last. He had intended for it to come out sounding far less confrontational than it had. Instead, the accusatory words hung in the air between them like a very cramped elephant in the room.

Caleb avoided his gaze, training his eyes on the task at hand. "I uh…I slept on the couch. I hope you don't mind."

Holmes instinctively balled his empty hand into a fist. Any trace of exhaustion he had previously felt was diminishing quickly with his surging adrenaline.

"Actually, I do mind."

Caleb huffed impatiently as he began setting the finished bacon aside on a wad of paper towel, mopping off the grease.

"Look, man. I'm just as unhappy about this entire shit storm as you are," he began bluntly. "But until we figure out which one of us knocked her up, we both need to be there for her."

Holmes narrowed his eyes. Though Caleb's comment had been meant to be pacifying, he managed to find the nugget of warning within it.

"And what happens when we _do_ find out? Am I going to have to deal with you living on my couch?"

Caleb slowly turned to look at him, as though afraid to clarify his explanation. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Dude…neither one of us wants the other to raise our kid…right?"

An aggressive silence settled between them as Holmes digested his statement. Neither of them would want the other to raise their kid. Right. It seemed a simple enough concept, but it was undeniably laced with nuance.

If Hanna's baby belonged to Caleb, her relationship – her domestic partnership – with Holmes would most certainly come to an end.

He felt a cold chill weave its way through his circulatory system, icing over the blood in his veins. He hadn't quite thought of what would happen if Caleb turned out to be the father. In truth, he had sort of blindly assumed it was himself, all along. He had been so hung up on being patient with Hanna that he hadn't really considered the fact that the payout – the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak – would not be in his favor.

"And what if it _is_ yours?" he asked brashly, stepping closer to Caleb to bridge the gap of awkwardness. He wanted to assure him that he was, indeed, the owner of the house. "Are you actually going to find it in your little asshole heart to commit to her this time? Or are you going to take the first free room and board that's offered to you again?"

Caleb turned to face him, a look of irritable impatience on his face. "Look, dude. I have no time to turn this into a pissing contest. All right? I want to be here for Hanna…and what happens after…I mean…I don't really know, okay? But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"You don't know what happens after?" Holmes demanded with an incredulous scoff. "You become a father! _That's_ what happens!"

"You may be ready for that role," Caleb began sullenly. "But I don't know if I am."

The very notion of implying that Hanna may not keep the baby was enough to spark a livid fire in Holmes's gut.

"I don't think it's up to you, really," he managed darkly.

Caleb did not reply. Instead, the two engaged in a silent staring contest, willing the other to back down first.

So when Spencer came humming around the corner and into the kitchen, the two of them hardly noticed.

"No offense, _pal_," Caleb said seethingly, "but if this baby turns out to belong to me and Hanna, you don't really get a say in what we decide."

Holmes took another step forward. "And if you ever actually gave two shits about her, you would let her make the decision herself and be there for her in whatever capacity she needs. Even if it means paying child support from a fucking California return address and letting me take care of the practical details."

"And you think you could do that?" Caleb challenged. "You think you could help her raise a kid that isn't your own, and actually treat the child with total fairness?"

Holmes gritted his teeth, spitting his words out from between them. "I will do whatever it takes…to make. Her. Happy."

"All right, all right," Spencer announced loudly, purposefully stepping between them. She seemed to deduce that Holmes was the bigger threat, for she put both palms on his chest and walked him backwards before turning to address Caleb. "Hanna's getting hungry. I think it'd be best for all of us if you run that up to her and disappear for a while."

"Gladly," Caleb muttered, picking up the breakfast tray he had pieced together. Holmes didn't even recall seeing him do it.

Once she heard the final footsteps on the top landing of the stairs, she whipped around to face Holmes once more. "What was that all about?"

Holmes was picking furiously at the label on his water bottle, glowering. "I don't even fucking know. Something about how the other should get out of the picture when she finds out…but then he basically said he wants her to get an abortion."

Spencer inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring in slight. "He said that?"

Holmes looked sheepishly at his hands. "I mean…more or less…"

Spencer rolled her eyes. "What _did _he say? Exactly?"

"He said that he doesn't think he's ready to be a father – and that whatever he and Hanna decide to do about it is none of my business." Holmes growled quietly. "Of course it's my goddamn business. You don't swoop in and start manipulating the woman I love and get away with it."

"Okay, stop. Stop right there," Spencer insisted, putting a hand over his mouth. He grumbled bitterly in muffled slurs. "That could mean anything. You understand that, right?"

Holmes flicked his eyes downward impatiently to indicate that her hand was preventing him from responding. She shook her head in stubborn determination.

"It's a yes or no question, Holmes."

He groaned, consenting to provide her a short nod.

"Good." She stepped back, removing her hand from his face. "Let's not jump to conclusions yet, all right? This will all be figured out soon."

"How soon?" Holmes muttered bitterly before he could stop himself. Spencer's face softened as she gazed at him sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder.

"_Soon_," she promised. "Now go get some real clothes on. We have class in thirty minutes."

"Spence," he began slowly, "I don't think I want - "

"_You're going_," she commanded, shoving him gingerly through the kitchen doorway. "It's the best way to get your mind off things. Or would you really rather sit here and sulk?"

He hated when she was right. He wondered how Toby managed to deal with a daily reminder that his own decision-making capabilities sucked in comparison to hers. He stomped grumpily up the stairs, ignoring the fact that he was sporting an attitude akin to his pre-pubescent teenage self.

Spencer sighed as she watched him go, turning to face the mess that Caleb had created in the kitchen. Without quite thinking about it, she began to mop up the grease stains from the stove and countertops, her mind wandering back to what Holmes had said.

If it was true – if Caleb really would ask Hanna to consider her other options – Spencer didn't know what she would do. A part of her had been excited to be an auntie. To coddle a newborn and lavishly spoil it from here to the ends of the earth. She knew it would be some time before she and Toby would be starting a family…and selfishly, she had looked forward to being able to dote on Hanna's child first for practice.

"Mmm, something smells good," Toby announced as he padded into the kitchen sleepily, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Did you cook something?"

"No," Spencer managed darkly. "Caleb."

Toby immediately extracted his arms. "What? This early? When did he get here?"

Spencer winced, knowing that Toby would most likely not be fond of her suspicions of him staying overnight. She had seen an unfamiliar toothbrush in the bathroom this morning, and had noticed the body-shaped indent on the living room sofa.

Instead, she decided to play dumb.

"I don't know."

"Hmm," Toby muttered irritably, but said no more. Spencer knew that, based on their conversation from the night before, he was concerned for his best friend.

She set the sponge aside and turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck. She silently appreciated his shirtless figure, as well as the low-hanging sweatpants that hugged him in all the right places.

"Let's not think about it right now. All right?" she asked quietly, craning upward to kiss his lips. The fresh smell of his recently-brushed teeth tasted sweet on her mouth.

"Mmm," he agreed sensually, allowing his hands to roam freely around the apex of her low-cut V-neck. She moaned involuntarily in reply. "It'd be much easier to stop thinking about it if I had something to distract me…"

She hummed happily as he began trailing kisses beneath her jawbone. "Such as?"

He smiled against her skin. "How about my beautiful, naked wife?" he suggested, sliding his hands beneath her shirt to reveal more of her tiny frame. She giggled.

"Toby, I have to get to class soon…"

"Your professor will understand," he insisted, picking her up and swiftly setting her on the clean part of the counter top. He stepped between her legs and grinded assertively against her. "Just tell him that your new, very handsome, very aroused husband needed your services. He can't fault a newly-wed for getting laid."

She chuckled loudly at this blunt statement, consenting to let him trap her lips between his own. She felt her body grow limp with desire, running her palms up and across his perfect pectorals.

The footsteps that had approached them from behind had gone unnoticed by them both.

"Ew. On the counter? Seriously?" Hanna demanded incredulously. "We eat off of there!"

Toby drew back immediately, careful to hide his growing mid-section behind Spencer's legs. "Morning, Hanna," he offered with feigned cheer. Spencer could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"I just came down to get some ketchup for my eggs," she explained hurriedly, making a melodramatic show of shielding her eyes as she trekked to the fridge.

"What, Caleb couldn't run down to get that for you?" Spencer asked bitterly. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was clearly biased about who she hoped the father would be.

Hanna glowered in annoyance. "I'm perfectly capable of getting things for myself," she replied. And with one broad sweeping motion, she was gone.

Spencer looked to Toby apologetically, giggling as she noticed the delicate pout on his lips. "We'll finish this later. I promise."

"_Promise_ promise?" he insisted. "Even if there are people shouting and screaming down the hall again?"

"_Promise promise_," she decided, planting a kiss on his mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, somewhat exasperatedly. She chuckled once more, hopping off the countertop.

"I'd better go make sure that Holmes didn't chop Caleb into indiscernible little pieces."


	4. To Be Or Not To Be Selfish

_**A/N:** Hello lovelies! I'm so sorry for the delay. I've received several messages from many of you, through here and on Tumblr. My summer job kicks my ass each year, and I haven't had much time to breathe. _

_I've also been having some trouble with developing the story. I know a few directions I'd like to go, but I'm feeling a bit stuck. Any recommendations would be highly appreciated. So many of you have given good ideas in the past :-) _

_I'm sorry that it's on the shorter side. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things very soon here. _

_Much love to all of you! xoxo_

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Spencer had hoped – prayed, even – that getting Holmes out of the house would take his mind off the situation at home. No such luck thus far – he hadn't stopped talking since they stepped off the front porch.

"I hate him," Holmes declared for the umpteenth time as he and Spencer settled into their classroom seats. "I just want to beat that smug little look right off his face."

"Caleb? Smug?" Spencer demanded, sending a sidelong glance in Holmes's direction. "I can't help but think your bias is clouding your perception of reality."

Holmes slouched in his chair and put his feet up on the seat in front of him, glowering like a child.

"I don't care. If you were in my position right now, you wouldn't be able to think straight, either."

Spencer pursed her lips. "What is it that's on your mind, in particular?" She was well-aware that Holmes's current feelings went above and beyond petty insults. He was masking his fears behind a façade of anger and machismo…and he would need to discuss them sooner or later. Before the time bomb went off.

He seemed suddenly very interested in brushing the dried mud off the bottom hem of his pants. "You're a smart girl, Spence," he said quietly. "I'm sure you've figured it out by now."

Spencer watched him in silence for a moment, wishing she could think of something more profound to say than the usual, generic words of wisdom. Nothing came to her.

"I'm sorry," she said pathetically.

"Why? Did you sleep with her, too?" Holmes demanded with half-hearted cheek, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "Goddamn, we're in more trouble than we thought."

Spencer grinned. She couldn't help herself. His bizarre sense of humor always went right up her alley.

"I can't wait until this whole situation is resolved, so I can be rid of him once and for all," Holmes declared as his smile began to fade.

Spencer sighed sympathetically, curling a strand of hair around her index finger. Her heart thumped nervously in her chest at the prospect of the potential pain she was about to present to him.

"Holmes…I'm not sure you've considered this…but what if the outcome isn't what you're hoping for?"

Holmes averted his gaze towards the front of the room, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. It was as though he was attempting to hold his surfacing emotions back. It took a few moments for him to respond.

"I can't think like that," he admitted quietly. "Because that would mean losing Hanna forever."

The silence that settled between them was heavy and uncomfortable, inundated with nuance and fear. Spencer wasn't quite sure how to respond to his dark confession, but opted to take the optimistic route.

"That's not true," she uttered.

Holmes scoffed, expressing the abundant bitterness he felt. "No? And what would you do if you found out your hypothetical child wasn't Toby's?"

Spencer faltered for a moment before Holmes interrupted her.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot. You guys would never be in this mess," he continued, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm. "This shit seems to only happen to me."

Spencer winced, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Listen…for what it's worth…Toby and I are both rooting for you. We both want the best for you and Hanna and – well – speaking for myself, I don't like the idea of Caleb becoming part of Hanna's life again. It's not that he was bad to her, because he wasn't. But their lives have clearly taken different paths now…and I don't want Hanna to have to sacrifice anything for him. She spent far too long protecting him and looking out for him – she deserves better."

Holmes quietly returned the squeeze, but did not consent to meet her eyes again. Professor Brackshaw was parading down the middle aisle now, his dreadlocks bouncing wildly behind him.

"Good morning everyone!" he declared as he reached the podium and dropped off his briefcase. "How was everyone's Spring Break?"

Holmes laughed derisively. Spencer pretended not to notice.

"All right, then, let's get started. You all should have read Plato's _Republic_ over vacation – although – let's not kid ourselves – I highly doubt any of you had the time while you were sunning in Cancun."

Spencer joined the class in chuckling. She quite liked Professor Brackshaw's style. His standards were high, but he was also a realist. He did not expect the impossible.

"You read it while you were in Hawaii, didn't you?" Holmes declared accusatorily, smirking in Spencer's direction. She blushed lightly.

"I may have glanced at it now and then when Toby was sleeping in."

"Well, you're all in luck, because today's agenda includes going over the reading in detail. Don't say I never gave you anything," Professor Brackshaw stated. The class once again laughed at his candor.

Spencer obediently opened her copy of Plato's works, instantly flipping to the dog-eared page of her latest assignment. She pretended not to pay attention to Holmes's discontent, afraid to cause him any more anxiety. However, as the lesson continued on, she caught him staring off into the distance several times, all focus evading him. It wasn't like him – he was quite fond of Professor Brackshaw as well, and was often very engaged by his colorful lectures.

That was the last straw. She was having a very long, very stern talk with Hanna the moment she returned home.

* * *

The talk with Hanna didn't happen. Spencer had come barreling into the house, leaving Holmes to discuss an assignment extension with Professor Brackshaw, fully intent on tracking Hanna down like a bloodhound. The more she thought about it, the more furious she became. Hanna may have been frightened, yes – but she was being unforgivably selfish in her procrastinations.

Instead, Spencer found Toby sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee, scanning through the newspaper. The midday sun was dancing through the open blinds, casting a shimmery glow across his skin. He looked as if he had begun to get dressed and gotten distracted – his button-down shirt still lay open, revealing the perfect plane that was his chest and abs.

She stopped in her tracks, vaguely aware of the fact that her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Toby seemed to notice her then, glancing up from the paper to offer her a warm smile.

"Welcome home," he declared. "How was Philosophy?"

"It was – it was good," she stuttered. Had it really been that long since they had been intimate? She felt like it was her wedding night all over again.

He smirked knowingly, beckoning her to join his side. "I've been looking at the listings all morning," he began, looping an arm around her waist as she came to stand next to him.

Spencer peered down at the ads he was perusing, a knot settling in her stomach. "Listings for what?"

"Apartments," he replied, as though it were the obvious answer. He seemed oblivious to her ambivalent expression as he continued to read down the page, occasionally marking or circling with a blue felt-tip pen.

"You mean…you want to move out?" Spencer asked quietly. Toby turned to face her, perplexed.

"You don't?" He took her waist in both hands, guiding her to sit on his lap. She stared mindlessly at the periodical before them, fighting to think of the words to explain her position.

"That's not – I mean…we can't," she sputtered at last.

She could feel Toby stiffen defensively beneath her. "Why can't we?" he demanded quietly. Spencer could hear the fear in his voice as he spoke. She impatiently pushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Toby, Hanna needs me right now. It's not the time to pick up and go…"

Toby growled in frustration, gently removing Spencer from his lap. He stood too, as if prepping for an unwanted argument.

"Spencer," he began slowly, "What's going on with Hanna and Holmes and Caleb is not your responsibility."

"No, it's not," Spencer agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. "But being there for my best friend in a time of crisis _is_."

Toby's jaw was twitching irritably as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Listen, Spencer," he started. Though Toby rarely got angry with her, the sternness in his voice was growing with every moment. "This entire mess has been tearing us apart. I'm not about to let it keep happening. I'm sorry – but there's a time and place to be selfish. And I think you need to let yourself have a turn. We _need_ to get out of here."

This short diatribe was enough to send up several red flags. Spencer could feel Toby growing more and more frustrated every second of every day. "It's just for a little while," she promised. "Until Hanna figures out who the father is…"

"Face it, Spencer. She doesn't want to know," Toby declared brashly. Spencer's nostrils flared involuntarily. She couldn't fault him for the thought – she had been thinking the very same thing all morning. But it was one thing for her to say it – and something different entirely when he did.

He knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing when Spencer turned abruptly on her heel and began storming up the stairs. He sighed and attempted to follow.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he offered. He could practically feel his anger dialing down notch by notch. "Spencer…"

"Fuck off," she retaliated as she rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. He heard her slam the door behind herself.

Toby clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, unable to steady the barrage of thoughts that were racing through his mind. He returned to the dining table and studied the listings he had taken note of. They weren't far – walking distance, even. He wanted to remain close as much as Spencer did…his best friend lived here, too.

With a defeated grunt, he swept the newspaper off the table with one arm. He heard the pen clatter somewhere into the kitchen.

"The news always gets me down, too."

Toby looked up, finding Holmes standing before him. He looked considerably less upset than he had before leaving this morning, but there was a dark discouragement in his eyes nonetheless.

"What's the matter?" Holmes asked after Toby did not so much as smile at his joke.

"Nothing," Toby muttered, standing hurriedly and retrieving his coat. "You up for a beer at Charley's?"

Holmes pushed past him to race him to the door. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to ask me that."


	5. Solace

_**A/N:** Hey all! Sorry for the delay, but my summer camp job was keeping me super busy all the time. I'm all done now, so I should have some extra time to write. _

_I have Chapter 5 in waiting as well, and will be posting it very soon. I promise you'll thoroughly enjoy it ;-)_

_xoxo_

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

Her heart was pounding. Her eyes stung with hot tears. And worst of all, she was beginning to grow rather feverish hiding under the covers.

But at this point, she'd rather feel the sensation of burning alive than pull back the blankets to face the world.

It was the biggest argument that she and Toby had gotten into in months. After slamming the door behind herself, she wanted nothing more than to run down the stairs and apologize. But her pride was such a fascist dictator that it had prevented her legs from moving. She had stood rooted to the spot for a few moments, only finding her mobility after she had heard the front door close heavily downstairs. He had left. He hadn't even come up to see if she was okay.

She wasn't sure she would have even been ready to discuss it – she probably would have yelled at him more, to be honest. But it was a rare occasion that he didn't try to fix the situation immediately. It was one of those qualities she both loved and hated most about him: his inability to let her walk away angry.

But for the first time ever, he just had.

The spontaneous part of her wanted to chase after him anyway. Run down the front steps and beg him to come back inside and talk to her. Ask him to forget the argument and hold her until her anxious heartbeat calmed.

But she also knew this was not possible. Toby was growing frustrated with her recent outbursts, and likely needed space, himself. She hated that she had driven him to such irritation. She wanted to fix it. _Needed_ to fix it.

But her legs did not move. The hand that rested idly on the doorknob seemed to be burned by the mere contact, as if issuing a subconscious warning about ignoring her principles.

The one person with whom her pride should not matter, and she could not force herself to go to him. She wasn't sure which part she was more depressed about – this, or the idea of them fighting in general.

So instead, she curled up in their bed, hidden beneath the duvet, wallowing in self-pity. She felt blind and suffocated in this cocoon, but remained stubbornly encased, nonetheless.

It wasn't as though she didn't want to move out with him, per se. But with everything that was happening with Hanna, she was afraid of things moving too fast. _Changing_ too fast. It was enough to make her head spin, and her anxiety was working on over-drive.

Where could he have gone? Was he ever coming back? Or had he simply had it? Thrown in the towel? Called it quits? She had a fleeting image of him buying a plane ticket to somewhere far away, and having Holmes ship his stuff to him at a new home. Away from her.

The very thought made her heart bleed unbearably.

"Spencer?"

It was Hanna. She gripped the comforter tightly in her fists, as if preparing for the threat of having it ripped away.

"I know you're in there. I heard yelling. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. _No, I'm not. I need my best friend. _

Hanna scoffed indignantly from the other side of the door. "You're full of shit."

"Go away." _Please come in…I don't want to be alone. _

Part of her was eager for Hanna to ignore her request. She hated anybody to see her like this. The Hastings family was very private about their weaknesses and vulnerabilities…as she had often learned the hard way all throughout her childhood.

But, childish as she felt, she feared the dark she had chosen to envelope her self in. And she wanted Hanna to know her well enough to sense that.

Her silent wishes were granted as she heard the door hinges squeak tiredly. Within a few moments, Hanna's weight was present beside her on the mattress.

"Don't kid a kidder, Spence," she said softly, patting the top of the bodily lump beneath the blanket. "I've been saying the same stuff all week, and we both know damn well that _I_ didn't mean it, either."

Spencer digested this for a second. At least Hanna was finally admitting that her strained smile was all for show. That had to count for something.

Reluctantly, she pushed back the duvet, breathing in the scent of fresh air. She still did not meet Hanna's eyes. "Where's Caleb?" she demanded bitterly.

Hanna seemed taken aback, but sighed nonetheless. "Damned if I know."

There was a pregnant pause that settled between them.

"Are you okay?" Hanna asked at last.

"Do I look okay?" Spencer growled. She hoisted herself into a sitting position, pulling a pillow into her lap to cling to. Despite her frustration with Hanna, she launched into an explanation without a second thought. "I just bit Toby's head off for looking at apartment listings. _Apartment listings. _Of all the stupid things to get angry over…_"_

Hanna adjusted her position on the bed, swinging around so that she was lying on her stomach beside Spencer. She kicked her feet idly in the air behind her, concentrating deeply on her fingernails.

"Why was he looking at apartment listings?" she asked quietly. There was a hint of sadness in her voice. One that Spencer had expected from the very start.

"He wants to get us a place." Hanna's eyes fell downcast. "But I told him it's not possible right now. Not with everything going on. Not when my best friend is expecting a baby! What am I supposed to do? Up and leave you?"

Hanna didn't say anything for a moment. She continued to pick at the few remaining chips of nail polish on her usually-perfect manicure. She did not raise her eyes to address Spencer's comment.

"Hanna," Spencer began slowly, fearing the worst. "I told him no. Don't worry. We're going to wait."

"No," Hanna snapped. She sat up quickly so that she was opposite Spencer, clasping her best friend's hands. She studied Spencer's face now, the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "No, that's stupid, Spence. If you and Toby are ready to move on…then…that's a decision that the two of you will need to make. I would never want to interfere with that."

"But – but – " Spencer began pathetically, feeling as though her tongue was too large to fit in her mouth. "I can't leave you when you need me, Han."

Hanna chuckled darkly. Spencer was beginning to notice, for the first time, the bags that had formed under her eyes. It wasn't just her fingernails that were falling into neglect; she looked utterly exhausted.

"Is it me that needs you, or you that needs me?"

Spencer furrowed her brow at this, but said nothing.

"You're married now, Spencer," Hanna started, as a genuine smile began to form over her lips. "Married! To the man of your dreams. The one guy who not only has dealt with your craziness, but loves you more for it. And you're terrified of what comes next."

Spencer wanted to argue. To tell Hanna to stop psychoanalyzing. But, much like her pride-induced leg-lock earlier, she could not oblige.

"I will miss you like crazy if – no, _when_ – you move out of this house…but I understand. And I would never want to hold you back."

Spencer took a deep breath, lowering her gaze to their clasped hands. She was ashamed that any part of Hanna's analysis might be true, but did not say so.

"I know that I've been making this hard on everyone," Hanna continued sadly, squeezing Spencer's hands in her own. "Which is why I made a new appointment with the doctor…for tomorrow. I'm going to get the ultrasound and find out how far along I am."

Though the promise was simple enough, Spencer could have cried from joy. She hadn't quite realized how long she had been holding her metaphorical breath.

"Thank you," was all she could muster in return.

Hanna leaned in, putting her arms around Spencer in a hug. "You're my best friend, Spencer," she declared shakily, as if holding back tears. "I want you to be happy."

Spencer clung to her, part of her feeling foolishly as though this would be their last hug for the rest of their lives. She did not deal well with change. A deep part of her yearned for adventure, but mostly, she coveted comfort and consistency.

Hanna pulled back before Spencer was quite prepared. She took a deep, shuddering breath before slowly exhaling.

"What are you going to do?" she asked Hanna quietly. She had been admittedly dreading the answer, unsure of where Hanna's stance currently lay.

Hanna chewed on her bottom lip pensively before replying. "It's complicated," she began sullenly. "Caleb has really shown how great he can be by coming all the way out here…but…I can't help not caring. You know?"

Spencer shook her head ever-so-lightly, indicating that, no, she wasn't quite following her trajectory.

Hanna squared her shoulders, exuding as much confidence as she could muster. "I mean, I've moved on. The only person I want to be with is Derek…no matter what the outcome of all of this is. I'm going to ask Caleb to fly home next time I talk to him. I'm going to tell him how much I appreciate his concern, but that I don't want to give him the wrong idea."

Spencer felt a balloon of relief in her chest. She hadn't known until now how strongly she had been rooting for Holmes. "But Han…what if it does belong to Caleb? He has a right to be a part of his child's life."

"And he can," Hanna declared, "but not part of mine."

Spencer squeezed her hand.

"He can make a decision if and when he finds out he's going to be a dad. Whether he wants to move out here or not. But I'm not uprooting myself to go to him."

"That sounds more like the Hanna I know," Spencer mused with a small smile. "Independent and strong. I'm glad to see you back."

"These hormones _have _been a bitch, _haven't _they?" Hanna agreed laughingly. "It's hard to feel like myself."

Spencer grinned, pulling Hanna in for a second hug. "I was prepared to support you no matter what, but thank _God_ you're choosing Holmes. I don't think I could take another minute of him brooding like Edgar Allen Poe."

Hanna laughed heartily, a sound that Spencer hadn't heard in days. It warmed her soul.

"Speaking of Derek," Hanna began, "let's go find our boys."


	6. Jealousy

_**A/N: **First thing is first - if you didn't catch that Chapter 4 was posted an hour or so before this one, please make sure you don't forget to read it first! _

_So here's the thing…I just got my first actual negative review. From someone who didn't sign in, and someone I don't think I've ever heard of before. And while I can respect the reviewer's concerns/wishes, the "yawn" part was unnecessary and I found it somewhat rude. First of all, I did say I was about to post Chapter 5 too after I read through it a few times to make sure I liked its flow and that it was devoid of any errors. I was going to post it all as one chapter, but it was a bit too long and changed gears too drastically to really warrant keeping it together._

_But secondly, not every chapter of every story you'll ever read is all action. It's important to capture the emotions of characters and work on building the friendships and relationships. Or you won't have the true substance you're going for._

_Also – for anybody who doesn't like the Hanna/Holmes pairing and is bringing it up now – I'm a bit confused. You don't have to like it – that's fine – but it's kinda been going on for 3 stories…so…it's not really a new thing. It seems like the vast majority of readers do enjoy the pairing, and I can't please everyone…so…not sure what to tell you there._

_Anyway, for those of you who are still around and reading faithfully, I hope you enjoy this chapter._

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

"I dunno, bro…I think maybe you should start laying off," Toby insisted passively as Holmes accepted another Budweiser from the waitress. "You've already had five or six."

"Hey – hey – is _your_ girlfriend pregnant with some other guy's baby?" Holmes demanded sloppily. He then broke into a grin, as though it had been a joke all along. "At least beer hasn't chosen to leave me."

Toby sighed exasperatedly. They had only been at the bar for an hour or so, and Holmes was sinking fast. It was nigh impossible to look away, like watching a car crash occur in slow motion. He had attempted to gently placate him, but was growing tired of his excuses.

"Don't be a drama queen," he groaned, reaching out to take the beer from Holmes's grasp. "You're starting to make me feel like I'm in an episode of _Jersey Shore_."

Holmes's only response was amused laughter, oblivious to the fact that Toby was indirectly insulting him. "How are you so calm?" he asked, snatching the beer back into his own hold. Toby did not put up a fight this time. "Your wife doesn't want to move out, and she's been talking to Dr. McDreamy over at the hospital. Aren't you the least bit concerned?"

Of course he was. But he was trying to avoid crossing the bridge until he came to it.

"I'm working on it," he insisted. "And – hey – why are you making references to characters from a chick flick show?"

"Hey now – _Gray's Anatomy _is fun for the whole family," Holmes declared. "It's a guilty pleasure, all right?"

Toby rolled his eyes, smirking softly in the direction of the bar. Several people were seated at the counter, waiting for someone to take their drink orders. A pretty blond girl was eyeing him in a way that made him rather uncomfortable, so he turned back to Holmes.

"If I were to stage a plane crash where Caleb's body would be mysteriously discovered, how long do you think I'd have to flee the country?"

"Considering that sounds like more work than you'd ever do, and that you'd probably screw it up, I'd give you six hours to get out of dodge," Toby responded thoughtfully, taking a short sip of his beer.

Holmes crinkled his brow, deep in thought. "What about a freak circus accident?"

"Like what? Elephant stampede?" Toby quipped sarcastically.

Holmes snapped his fingers in an '_ah ha_!' fashion. "Perfect! Do you know anyone with elephants?"

Toby could not resist outright guffawing at this ridiculous query. Though Holmes had been obsessing unnaturally about Caleb for the past forty-five minutes, at least now his train of thought was taking an entertaining turn. And perhaps the alcoholic content of his blood stream was assisting in relieving his previous annoyance.

"Excuse me."

Toby's and Holmes's mirth was interrupted by a new voice, the source of which they both turned toward. It was the blond girl from the bar counter. She had hiked her skirt up and pulled her tank top down, attempting to accentuate what God gave her. She was good-looking, and perhaps in another universe Toby would have admired her further. Instead he offered a neutral smile of politeness.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to dance," she said quietly, as if not wanting Holmes to hear. And, as though she had sensed Toby's immediate disinterest, she leaned over the table in an attempt to remind him just how much cleavage she had.

Holmes was trying to meet Toby's eyes, craning his neck around her enormous bosom to make this possible. The look on his face was of pure amusement, enjoying his front row seat to Toby's most awkward encounter of the century.

Toby shifted away from her, hoping not to hurt her feelings too much. "Sorry – um…"

"Bethany."

"Sorry, Bethany, but I think you're barking up the wrong tree."

She smiled uncertainly, as though he had launched a rocket straight through her thin self-esteem. In a last ditch effort, she closed the distance between them so as to whisper in his ear.

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

Holmes evidently heard it anyway, for he did the world's greatest spit-take. Both Bethany and Toby were coated in a mixture of beer and saliva within seconds, and Holmes was just about having an aneurism, he was laughing so hard.

"You shouldn't try so hard," Toby declared irritably, careful not to touch anything precarious as he gently removed her from his personal bubble. "I'm sure you're a wonderful girl…but you're making a fool of yourself."

"You sound like my father," she groaned. Toby was sure he could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

"Somebody should."

Another new voice, only this one was recognizable. Spencer and Hanna stood behind Bethany now, looking particularly furious. Especially Spencer.

"And who are you?" Bethany demanded, though much of her confidence had already ebbed away.

"I'm his wife," Spencer growled territorially as she practically shoved her ring in the girl's face.

"If you're so happily married, then why is he sitting here at the bar? Alone?" Bethany inquired haughtily, putting her hands on her hips. Toby saw now that she had a large tramp stamp on her lower back, which was lying out in the open for everybody to see.

"He's not alone. He has me," Holmes piped up, sipping dazedly on his beer.

Bethany made a face in his direction but said nothing. Holmes did not seem to notice her disdain, and had begun to blow musical notes over the top of his bottle.

Spencer was fuming. She did not appear to have a feasible answer to Bethany's question.

"It doesn't matter. He didn't invite any dirty sluts to sit with him, so maybe you should go back to your street corner and do your business there."

Hanna snorted. Spencer did not even bat an eyelash upon hearing it.

"Now I understand why you looked so miserable," Bethany cooed to Toby. "She's using your nutsack as a change purse."

Toby wouldn't have believed it if he had heard it second-hand, but lo and behold, he was there to witness it. Spencer had leapt onto the girl's back and was senselessly beating her over the head with one hand. Bethany cried out and lurched backwards, nearly sending Spencer askew. But by God, she held on.

"Kick her ass, Spence!" Hanna cried excitedly. A few male patrons had hurried over to catch a glimpse of the cat fight before it would get broken up.

"Don't! You! Look! At! Him! EVER AGAIN!" Spencer screeched, staccato-ing her words in rhythm to the repeated bludgeons she was exacting on Bethany's head.

"Spencer!" Toby declared once the initial shock had passed. He was on his feet in an instant, peeling his wife off of the strange girl's back. Bethany was now enraged and out of sorts, tugging on her clothes to put them back in place.

"You're a fucking psychopath!" she screamed, before fighting her way through the crowd and to the front door. A group of frat boys were hooting and hollering. One even yelled 'go Spencer!', having undoubtedly learned her name from Toby's worried outburst.

It took a few moments to calm Spencer down. She wriggled and writhed in Toby's hold, grumbling obscenities under her breath. Eventually, however, she resigned to becoming a limp rag doll in his arms, pouting melodramatically.

"Are you done now?" he demanded.

"I'm fine," she muttered irritably, shaking away his arms. She sheepishly scuffled her feet against the floor. "I was…I was hoping we could talk."

"Yeah…yeah, sure," Toby agreed. He extracted a ten dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it on the table. "Tell the waitress to keep the change," he instructed Holmes.

"Yessir," Holmes agreed with a mock salute. Hanna was eyeing him suspiciously, as though trying to take a rough gauge of his B.A.C. herself.

So Toby walked back to the house with Spencer in complete silence. She would not so much as look at him for the duration of the journey, not even when he nearly tripped over a loose sewer vent.

She stopped when she entered the house, tossing her purse carelessly on the couch and turning to face him, her eyes still trained on the floor. She crossed her arms protectively.

"I don't want to fight anymore…I love you, and I don't want us to keep hurting each other," she stated definitively.

"Good," Toby replied. Somehow, it was all the permission he needed. He took her by the hips and smashed her desperately against the wall, his lips finding hers instantaneously. She seemed perplexed and hesitant at first, but was soon kissing back with equal fervor.

He trailed his lips down her jawbone and against her clavicle, to which she moaned in pleasure. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmured into her skin. He felt as though he were ready to burst at any given second.

"What, exactly?" she asked breathlessly.

"It's the first time I've ever seen you jealous," he replied, beginning to work desperately at the clasps of her blouse. "And watching my wife kick someone's ass is just about the biggest turn-on I've ever experienced."

"I'll have to do it more often," she chuckled, arching into him as he yanked her shirt away. He grasped at her chest greedily, grinding against her. She gasped in response.

"Hanna – and Holmes," she stuttered. "They'll be home soon."

"Remember what you said a while ago, about the excitement of getting caught?" Toby asked.

Spencer could only whimper slightly in reply.

To make his point apparent, Toby lifted her off her feet and tossed her gently onto the couch, leaning in to crawl on top of her. She seemed to have an afterthought to this, however, and quickly rearranged their positions so that he was lying on his back and she was straddling his hips. As she chewed attractively at her lower lip, Toby was certain that if he didn't have her at this exact moment, he was going to die from anticipation.

"I remember clearly," she mumbled seductively as she closed the distance between them.


	7. StarCrossed

_**A/N:** All right - a heavily expository chapter, but necessary before we proceed. Some relationship and character development that will help set the pace for the rest of the story. I hope you guys still enjoy it...I feel as though a lot of my readers are dropping off the face of the earth, and that makes me sad. It's very important to me that people are still having fun. If there are certain requests you'd like to make, please, feel free to get at me. _

_Thank you to all of my reviewers who made me feel considerably better about my last two chapters. You guys are amazing and you brighten my day each time you give me words of comfort and positive feedback. I love you all. _

_I wrote a one-shot about Toby and Caleb trying to solve the mystery of the new "A" that has been torturing the girls this summer on PLL. It's called **"Whatever The Cost"**. It got multiple hits, but only a few reviews. I'd love some additional feedback if you guys have the time. _

_Also - if you haven't already - go read **Breedom2Be's** fan fiction **"After All We've Been Through."** She just wrapped it up at 70-something chapters, and it is a delightful read. If you're reading this, Bree, I'm sorry I haven't reviewed yet - I was reading it on my phone. I will get back to you as soon as possible :-) _

_Much love, my friends! As always, any suggestions about directions you'd like to see me go are most appreciated. _

_Still to come...Hanna's results and a surprise visit from a downtrodden friend._

_xoxo_

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

Hanna and Holmes took their time walking home from the bar, being sure to savor the warming breeze that indicated spring was on the horizon. Holmes had offered his jacket to Hanna anyway, which she had gladly accepted. She pulled it tightly around herself, discreetly enjoying the scent of his cologne on the collar. Things were awkward, there was no doubt. But it wasn't a painful sort of discomfort – it was forlorn. Sad. The sort of "awkward" where both parties positively despised it and would do anything to change it.

She had almost started telling him her plans countless times. Nearly narrated the thoughts that were racing vigorously through her head, as though taking up NASCAR driving. It was such a simple thing to say – "I choose you" – but the words carried such heavy meaning that they were quickly weighted down into the pit of her stomach.

The stars were standing out far brighter than normal tonight, a treat that had all but distracted Holmes entirely. Upon reaching the threshold of their house, he unexpectedly flopped down into the grass to gaze skyward. Hanna, feeling quite silly, stared down at him with a mixture of uncertainty and anxiousness. As if sensing her ambivalence, he gently patted the ground beside him, and she obliged.

Though the grass was dry, it was easily colder than the surrounding air at standing elevation. Hanna involuntarily shuddered and pulled the coat closer around her frame. As she followed his train of view, she saw that she was looking directly at one of the Dipper constellations. She could never be sure which. She had never been much for astronomy.

"Gorgeous, huh?" he asked, mostly to himself. Hanna murmured a passive agreement.

"I used to sit outside for hours and study the stars," he began. She peered at him quietly, enjoying this view much better. "During those nights at basic when I couldn't sleep. I'd come outside and burn through a whole pack of cigarettes, just analyzing the sky."

He didn't talk much about his army life with her, aside from adventures with Toby. This particular story had never been so much as alluded to, so her interest was piqued.

"Why didn't you sleep much?" she inquired, absent-mindedly brushing the back of her hand against his. And as though a spark of electricity jolted through the both of them, she quickly moved it away.

"I dunno. A little bit of home sickness, I suppose. But if I'm being honest, I think I started to like the time I had alone those nights. Looking at these stars that exist millions of light years away, far out of our reach. We're seeing them in the past, you know. Technically. Because it takes so long to reach us. We're seeing the same light that they gave off years ago."

Hanna vaguely remembered Spencer trying to explain something like that to her for a middle school science class. But hearing Holmes explain it was admittedly much more enjoyable.

"And I guess what really got me thinking all those nights…is that we, on Earth, are living in the past. Those stars are living in the future and are ten steps ahead of us. And I'd start to wonder…is that why everybody always said that your fate is written in the stars? And I'd sit there and think about what they knew about my future, that I couldn't see yet."

A shiver ran through Hanna's body that had nothing to do with the cool grass. Holmes rolled his head onto his shoulder to look at her, and she sheepishly looked back. She allowed her hand to quietly find his, locking her fingers between his own. He gently squeezed.

"What's in the stars for us, Han?" he asked. He said it so softly that Hanna was surprised she heard him at all. "Because I don't think I can stand it if I have to go back to only guessing."

She squeezed his hand back, feeling her eyes filling up with involuntary tears. "I want it to be you," she choked. "I want that so much."

He replied with a sad smile that did not quite reach his bronze-colored eyes. The moonlight was shining on his face, illuminating all of the perfect architecture of his bone structure. Hanna had never appreciated it more.

"And if it's not me?" he ventured. There was a near-imperceptible tremor in his voice that he was trying to keep at bay.

Hanna could feel the emotion rising in her throat, and she, too, was feverishly attempting to hold it back. "It will always be you," she murmured. "Even if it's not."

The sentence didn't come out making a damn bit of sense. But Holmes seemed to follow her train of thought nonetheless. He had lifted his head up to get a closer look at her, his eyes burning with anticipation.

"Does…does Caleb know that?"

"Not yet," she said. "But I'm going to tell him."

Holmes reached forward to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing his chilly nose against hers. She could not help but giggle a bit in response.

"I love you," he softly said at last.

"I love you too." She raised her lips to his to meet him in a kiss, and quickly realized how much she had missed having him close. Because even with the cold grass against her back, he kept her feeling warm.

* * *

Spencer and Toby had wasted no time with retreating to the bedroom following their tryst. They had already pushed their luck with their adventurous living room romance, and thought it would be best to leave the crime scene as quickly as possible. Toby had thought vaguely of their first time in Spencer's and Hanna's apartment – their morning-after glow subsequently burned out by Hanna and Caleb marching foolishly into the bedroom. It seemed like so long ago…and at the same time, only yesterday.

Toby was laying quietly in his boxers, drifting in and out of consciousness as Spencer finished up her nighttime routine in the bathroom down the hall. If he knew her as well as he thought he did – and he was certain this was _fairly well_ – she would run the brush through her hair a solid 42 times, and brush her teeth for three minutes on the nose. She had been following this routine since they had begun overnight-type visits, and she very rarely deviated.

He thought of the events that had just transpired in the living room, and the slightly awkward way in which they both hastened upstairs afterwards. As though they had engaged in some sort of clandestine extramarital affair, and were now beginning to think rationally once more rather than with their libidos.

He couldn't be sure, but he had the sinking feeling that it had only made things more complicated. She had looked so damn beautiful that he couldn't help himself…but now he feared that they had merely swept their issues under the rug instead of dealing with them head on. Squeezed the argument down into compactible material to be dealt with another time rather than vanquishing it all at once. There was very little doubt in his mind – they _should_ have talked before they had made love. It wasn't healthy to ignore such a glaringly painful altercation. And it was probably going to come back to bite him in the ass.

He was so lost in his own mind that when she lied down beside him, he hardly noticed.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked immediately, studying the pensive expression that clouded his features.

"Nothing," he answered instinctively, forcing a smile for her benefit. He leaned over to kiss her, but she pulled out of his path.

"Don't distance yourself from me, Toby," she murmured. "Please. Tell me."

He sighed melodramatically, letting his head flop back onto the pillow. He heard the door open quietly downstairs as he attempted to sort out his endless racing thoughts.

"I don't want to fight, either," he said at last, as though picking up from the exact conversation they had started before pouncing on one another. "But if we're going to keep that promise, we need to figure out where we go from here."

Spencer sat up quickly, a look of intense worry coming over her face. "What do you mean?"

He reached out to touch her thigh comfortingly, trying to indicate that he wanted nothing more than to rectify their numerous disagreements – not dwell on them. "I just mean…we're going to need to talk about stuff."

He knew his explanation sounded pathetic, but he was terrified of having it come out wrong and setting her off.

"You mean…moving out," she surmised quietly. Her eyes traveled somewhere into the distance, far beyond the closet door that she was staring at.

He squeezed her leg in reassurance. "We don't have to make any major decisions right now," he started. "But eventually – sooner rather than later – we're going to need to be somewhere that we can grow. Because we're being suffocated here."

It pained him to say it. It truly did. It was the home that he had secured with Holmes, Lancaster, and Cody. It was going to be difficult to let it go and find somewhere else to call his own. But as long as Spencer was there, the transition would be considerably less painful. His home was wherever she was.

Spencer took in a deep, shuddering breath. "I talked to Hanna earlier." She began to chew on her fingernails, something she often did when she was feeling nervous. Toby knew almost instantly that whatever she was going to say was very difficult for her to announce out loud. "She…she made me realize…that _I'm_ the one who's not ready to move out."

Toby gazed at her curiously. Something had told him that this was the case all along.

"I mean, not just yet. But I will be," she added hastily. "I just…don't do well with things changing all at once." She was looking down at her hands folded in her lap now, seemingly feeling sheepish for her confession.

Toby sighed quietly and sat up to meet her, wrapping his arms around her delicate waist. "I had a feeling," he said simply.

Spencer chuckled mirthlessly as she rested her hands on his forearms, making tiny circles with the pads of her thumbs. "I'm not surprised…you know me better than anybody. I can't hide anything from you."

Toby leaned forward to plant a short kiss on the end of her nose, resting his forehead against hers. "And I don't want you to feel like you have to. I want you to tell me these things…trust me…let me listen."

She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully before consenting to giving a short nod. "You're right. I know you're right."

"We can take our time looking for a place," he whispered. "I don't want to rush you into something that makes you uncomfortable. Just…one thing."

"Hmm?" she asked quietly, allowing her eyes to drift shit as his forehead grew heavy against hers.

"Promise me that we'll make time for each other. Even with all of this baby fever going on…let's make a vow that we won't let it take over our lives. We can still be good friends to Hanna and Holmes while _also_ taking care of each other."

Spencer smiled sleepily and squeezed his forearms where her hands rested. He could feel her nod softly against his forehead. "I promise."

"Good," he murmured, gently encasing her lips in his for a short kiss. He could taste the spearmint of the toothpaste she had just used. "Now I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

She took his cue instantly, unfurling her body from its sitting position and slinking beneath the duvet. Toby laid back and pulled her against him, delighting in the feeling of her tiny hand resting on his chest as she curled into his frame.

"I love you. And I will always do whatever makes you happy," he said quietly, giving her one last kiss on the top of her head. If possible, she snuggled closer in response.

"And that's what makes you so amazing," she whispered. Neither had much time to digest the statement in full, as they slipped into the realm of unconsciousness.


	8. New Beginnings All Around

****_**A/N: **I know. I know. I'm so sorry for the long wait.  
_

_I was up against some writer's block. Sometimes I just like to refer to it as laziness. I've been spending a lot of my time reading (11/22/63 by Stephen King is a beautiful book) and catching up on movies I've been meaning to see.  
_

_And then inspiration struck. I had a brilliant idea about where to go with the story - and just as the light at the end of the tunnel, which had come to signify the end of my blockage, was about to embrace me - the mid-season finale happened. Yeah. That's right. That whole "Toby is A" bullshit.  
_

_I'm sorry, but screw that. Worst idea ever.  
_

_Anyway. So that sort of turned me off from the fandom for a minute until I could get my head straight. It's unbelievable how much a fictional character can affect your daily mood, isn't it?  
_

_But the Spoby folks on Tumblr are working hard to make their voices heard! If you have any questions about how to get involved, contact Breedom2Be and she'll get you squared away.  
_

_So here it is. Chapter 7!  
_

_Be sure to read Chapter 8 as well, which will be posted right after this one.  
_

_xoxo  
_

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

"What do you think is taking so long?" Holmes asked impatiently, tossing aside the _TIME_ magazine that he had been browsing. It had been more of a prop than anything, Spencer had noticed, for he was absent-mindedly skimming through pages at the speed of light. His eyes had been mostly trained on the automatic double doors that separated the waiting room from the examination area.

Holmes had been more than ecstatic when Hanna asked him to accompany her and Spencer to the OB-GYN. He was up bright and early that morning, putting together an elaborate breakfast for the three of them. Spencer had awoken to see Toby off for his first day back to work as campus security, and had not expected to be greeted by the scent of freshly-brewed coffee as she traipsed back inside.

"Holmes," she had muttered sleepily. "What are you doing up before the sun?"

"I figured I'd get our day started right," he had replied, his face beaming with anticipation.

Spencer had flopped down in a dining room chair, notoriously known to be an utter zombie pre-coffee. "What are you, a spokesman for Starbucks?" she grumbled. And then, as if on cue, he had placed a mug on the table only inches from her nose. It was like they were in a commercial.

Nonetheless, Holmes's coffee, breakfast, and good cheer had done a bang-up job of bringing Spencer into the world of the living. It was Hanna that had been a problem; she had practically begged to go to the doctor in her bathrobe and slippers. Only after Spencer promised to let her wear the designer boots she had been dying to borrow – an unnecessarily expensive gift from Melissa, of course – did she make an effort to get dressed.

And now she and Holmes sat together in the waiting room, having barely gotten settled into their seats. It had been just over five minutes since the nurse had escorted Hanna back, and Holmes was already getting antsy.

Spencer squeezed his knee reassuringly. "It's not a drive thru," she offered with an amused smile. "It's a full exam of…well…the downstairs equipment."

Holmes winced, as if put off by the idea of other people poking around Hanna's nether-regions. "W-what exactly do they have to do?"

Spencer scrunched her nose and shook her head melodramatically, re-imagining the discomfort of the speculum and everything associated with it. "I don't think you really want to know. It's like a horror movie in there."

Holmes did not reply to that, seemingly trying to exude maturity and understanding. However, he did not push for elaboration.

"And an ultra sound? Will they do that?" he asked.

"It depends on the date of conception," Spencer answered honestly. "If she's more than six or seven weeks along, they probably will."

Holmes appeared to be doing fast math. "In which case…there would be no way that I'm the father." He fought to keep his eyes neutral, but Spencer had grown to know him well enough that she sensed his anxiety.

"You heard what Hanna said," she reasoned. "She wants to be with you, regardless of what happens today."

"I know, I know," Holmes agreed quickly. "But it would really complicate things if I – you know – _wasn't_. And…I…well…" He scratched the back of his neck pensively, as if searching for a way to best describe his thought.

"You're excited," Spencer whispered in weak accusation. "Aren't you?"

Holmes most certainly did not have a skin tone conducive to blushing, but Spencer swore she saw rosy patches on his cheeks nonetheless.

"It's terrifying, don't get me wrong," he began. "But part of me has started moving past the acceptance stage and into a place where I feel – well – _happy_. Blessed."

Spencer smiled fondly as she squeezed his shoulder.

"It's like…you can't _just_ be accepting of something like this. You either hate the idea, or you like it. There's really no neutral ground," he explained. "Trust me, I've tried. I've tried my damnedest to be as detached as possible until I have all of the information. But it just doesn't work that way."

Spencer followed his eyes to a toddler fumbling with blocks in the children's corner of the waiting area. There was a sort of warmth in his eyes that would not have existed two months ago. He would have barely given the child a passing glance before going about his daily routine. Because, at the time, that chapter of his future was somewhere far in the distance. It was impertinent and removed, and had nothing to do with the present. And now, with his life moving in overdrive, it had started to become a reality.

"No, it doesn't," she reflected quietly. Though she had hoped for something more profound to leave her mouth, the thoughts had died on her tongue. The reality of it all had been something of an atomic bomb to her, as well. It seemed like only yesterday that she and Hanna had been curled up in sleeping bags, pre-pubescent and mouths full of braces, listening to *NSYNC on tandem headphones and giggling about which one they would marry. It was hard to believe that they were at this place now, married and having children and growing up.

Holmes turned to look at her, his pearly whites flashing into a broad smile. "So, enough about me. Cavanaugh tells me the two of you have some big date planned for tonight."

Spencer could not help but smile back in reply. "Yeah…Dinner and dancing."

"You owe it to yourselves, you know," Holmes said softly. "You've been so wrapped up in everything going on with us, you haven't had any time to just be newlyweds."

And though Spencer and Toby had discussed this phenomenon extensively, she suddenly felt guilty.

"It's not your fault," she started. Holmes held up a hand to silence her upcoming speech.

"I wouldn't blame you if you _did_ blame us," he declared. "But I know that you don't. And that's what makes you such a good friend. You're always looking out for Hanna before yourself…and I love that about you. But you have to think about you and Cavanaugh right now, too. And don't you dare feel guilty for doing so."

Spencer was the one blushing now as she turned away from him. Though she had known him for so short a time in comparison to Hanna, he already had the ability to read her thoughts. She wasn't sure whether to be humbled or terrified at this prospect.

"Thank you," she conceded simply, knowing that any further argument would be met with additional challenge on his part.

"You're welcome," he answered definitively, as though triumphant that he had stumped her. "Now. I'm really in desperate need of some coffee or something…do you know where to find it?"

"Yes," she said, standing. Though she enjoyed his company, she was feeling quite vulnerable now and anxious for an emotional time-out. "I'll go get us some."

"Cool, thanks." He was fishing around for cash in his pocket, but Spencer held up a hand.

"It's on me."

She meandered downstairs toward the hospital café, a place that she had come to know like the back of her hand after the car accident. It had been something of a chore coming to visit Holmes in those days, fighting to tolerate the dismal ambiance of the building. Spencer had to do _something_ to brighten her spirits. And the free coffee from the pathetically run-down coffee maker in the waiting room just wasn't cutting it. She'd rather pay for good coffee than drink free piss water.

"Just two regulars please," she requested, sliding the two dollars and 42 cents across the counter. Within a few very brief moments, the cups were filled. "Thank you."

"Spencer?"

She felt her heart plummet into her stomach. Not again…she _could not_ do this right now.

"Twice in one week. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

She turned to face him. There he was, sitting at a table with his laptop and latte, dressed in scrubs. He must have been on break.

"Fine," she stated shortly. She did not intend to come across as rude, but something within her just couldn't help it. Not only had Wren put moves on her as a teenager, but he had begun to do the same with Hanna, as well. Something about moving from one underage girl to another made her lose all respect for him.

His face fell at her dejected reply, and he sighed heavily. "Listen, Spencer…I know I'm not your favorite person…but please. Have a seat. Catch up with me for a moment."

She merely stared at him, unsure of what to do at this junction.

"I promise I'll be on my best behavior," he continued. "What's in the past is past, and we've both moved forward with our lives. I heard you got married."

This simple yet significant speech eased Spencer's tension somewhat. She took a hesitant seat across from him, her eyes never leaving his. She wanted to be sure of his intentions, and she would not look away until she was.

"Yes," she said. "To Toby."

"Oh, the carpenter?" he inquired. Though his tone was more than polite, Spencer still despised how Wren had always referred to Toby. As if simply being a carpenter was all there was to his character.

Although, if she was being completely honest, hearing Toby described as _anything_ in a British accent was something of a treat. She may not have liked Wren much; but it was difficult for any woman to hate an accent as lovely as his.

"Yes, the carpenter. He's in the military now."

"You don't say?" Wren offered, appearing to be genuinely interested. He had pushed his laptop aside to allow for optimal focus on the conversation. "My fiancé spent some time doing social work at the V.A."

Spencer felt as though she'd been shot in the foot as she fought to digest his statement.

"Fiancé?" she asked quickly. _There_ was a word she never expected to hear from Wren's mouth again, after the disaster with Melissa.

He grinned. "Yes. Fiancé. Her name is Evelyn. She was a friend from university."

Spencer felt significantly less uncomfortable, as if some invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"That's wonderful," she offered. And she meant it, sincerely. Wren may have been a douche bag sometimes, but he deserved to finally settle down and be happy. As much as anybody else. "I'm sorry, but I should go…I have to meet Hanna…"

"Oh, right. Of course," he said. "I didn't mean to keep you. I just wanted to see how you were. The talk from before was rather…painful."

Yes. It certainly had been. They had spent five – or was it ten? – grueling minutes discussing the weather, and not much more.

She smiled politely as she stood and gathered her things.

"If it's all right with you…might I add you on Facebook?" Wren inquired. Spencer had to fight not to chuckle aloud. He had been sending her friend requests for months – all of which she had unceremoniously declined.

"I think that'd be okay," she decided. After all, he had moved on with his life. Finally. And perhaps they could go back to being friends someday.

If Toby didn't kill him, of course.

"All right, Spencer. Take care."

"You too." She set off down the hallway, glancing back only once to ensure that he was not admiring her backside as she left. No. Indeed he wasn't. He had returned to whatever engrossing task he had been doing before she arrived.

If anybody else had been around her, she would have needed to purposefully conceal her shock. Wren Kingston – the pervert of all perverts – was through with fancying her.

She wasn't sure why it lifted her spirits as much as it did, but she felt the urge to skip all the way back to the OB-GYN. If she was being honest, she had missed Wren – in a friendly regard, and nothing more. It would be nice to catch up with him now, knowing that he had no ulterior motives.

"What took so long?" Holmes asked as Spencer approached. She sat down next to him, noticing that his anxiety had only grown tenfold since she had left.

"I ran into Wren," she began. She wasn't sure if it would mean anything to him right away.

But it did.

"That English asshole?" he demanded. Clearly Toby had told him all about Wren…she wondered if that included his attempts to get with Hanna, as well. "What the hell did he want?"

"To clear the air," Spencer stated definitively. "He's engaged now, and wanted to offer congratulations to me and Toby."

Holmes scrunched his nose up in a look of distaste. "For the sake of keeping his face like it is, I hope he means it."

Spencer wasn't sure whether this threat was coming from Holmes himself, or if it was on Toby's behalf. She did not have time to ask, for Hanna had emerged from the exam room and was signing out at the front desk.

Holmes was on his feet in an instant.

"Is she okay? Does she look okay?" he asked quickly. Spencer could not read her face from this distance, but she, too, hoped that everything had gone smoothly.

"Thank you," Hanna concluded, readjusting her purse on her shoulder. She made her way back to Spencer and Holmes, who were both waiting anxiously for her report. She paused as she reached them, wringing her hands together timidly.

"Dr. Fowler was able to determine roughly how far along I am," she began quietly. "Not to the exact day…but she has a pretty close estimate."

Spencer and Holmes both waited with bated breath as Hanna fought to keep her face neutral. She inhaled sharply, clearly nervous about what she was about to say next.

"She says I must have conceived just before Valentine's Day."

The news hit Spencer instantaneously. She turned eagerly to Holmes for his reaction. He seemed to be taking his time digesting what he had heard.

Tears were seeping from Hanna's eyes now. She impatiently pushed them away with the palms of her hands. "It had to be at the wedding," she continued, a small smile grazing her lips.

"It's ours?" Holmes asked quietly, his face exuding utter shock. "_Our_ baby?"

Hanna nodded emphatically, smiling more widely as his realization came alive.

"We're having a baby," he declared, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly. Spencer swore she saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes, as well.

She slowly began to back away, smiling at the scene before her. She did not want to intrude on this special moment, so she started to loftily head towards the door, her head reeling with an overload of information.

She hadn't realized she had been holding a metaphorical breath this entire time. It was like she had finally been able to release it, a newfound sense of calm enveloping her. She had wanted it to be Holmes all along. It was just…_right_ at this juncture of Hanna's life. Had the child belonged to Caleb, Hanna would have had more difficulty moving on. There would have been a part of her that would have never quite gotten past it – or past _him_. And with their lives heading in separate directions, she would have been downright miserable.

Spencer waited by the door, pretending to be particularly interested in the Ann Geddes photos that adorned the walls. Within a few moments, Hanna and Holmes were at her side, hand-in-hand.

"I'm exhausted," Hanna breathed, though the smile on her face betrayed her words. "I'm ready to go home."


	9. Date Night

_**A/N:** Chapter 7 was posted right before this one. Make sure you read it. _

_Love!_

_xoxo_

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

Spencer was on Cloud Nine.

There was no doubt about it…Toby's suggestion to have a date night had been sheer genius. Not only had the day's events resulted in a significant improvement in her mood, but in addition, she had not, admittedly, realized how badly she had been contracting cabin fever. She had really only been to class and back, cooped up with her studies and her stressors. She had almost forgotten what it was like to relax and have fun.

It even felt refreshing to let Hanna pick out her outfit and doll her up, for she had spent far too long wandering around the house in baggy sweaters and jeans. Her curves had been hidden for weeks, to the point where she was rather surprised to see them again, having half-expected that they would have disappeared from sheer misuse.

Not to mention she was delighting in the fact that she could practically feel Toby's eyes burning through her dress like lasers, as though willing it to simply fall off on command. It was happening right at that moment, in fact, as she nonchalantly browsed her menu and listened to the nightclub music playing in the background. She was fighting to hide her blush.

"Go ahead," Toby urged gently, gesturing to the entrees section. "Get whatever you want."

Spencer chuckled good-naturedly. "Nice try, Mr. Cavanaugh, but now that we're married, I actually _know_ how much money you have to your name. And trust me…it isn't enough to allow gratuitous spending tonight."

Toby pursed his lips together and made a frustrated noise in his throat. "Shh. Don't shatter the illusion."

She giggled in reply, reaching across the table to grasp his hand and admiring his features. He looked utterly dashing tonight in a simple white button-down shirt and dress pants, and she had caught herself staring at him on several occasions already, as well. She couldn't help it – the shirt was form-fitting enough to reveal hard planes of muscle beneath it, just waiting to be touched and appreciated. If she was being honest, she would have much preferred that he was not wearing the shirt at all.

"This is nice," she said quietly. "Me and you…taking some time to escape from the real world."

He smiled at her adoringly, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the backs of her fingers. "I think we needed it. Everything has been so crazy lately that we've hardly had a chance to breathe."

"I know," Spencer admitted. "And I'm sorry…I know that I haven't helped…"

Toby squeezed affectionately. "It's no one's fault," he disagreed. "Life just…_happens_. And neither of us are the type of people to abandon our friends when they need us most."

Spencer's heart swelled with pride. No, they were most certainly _not_ those types of people. In some ways, it was both a blessing and a curse. But she was well aware that she was beginning to find her footing in all of it. It was a matter of balancing scales and assuring that she spent at least some of the time thinking of what _she _needed. Nobody else.

"You're amazing," she mused. He looked away sheepishly, as though prepared to disagree. "No. Truly. You've been so great to Hanna…"

"She's your best friend," he insisted. "Of course I'll look out for her."

"It's more than that," Spencer pressed. "Even if I wasn't in the picture. If it was just you and her. You would still be just as thoughtful."

He smiled a bit in reply, shaking his head modestly. "People are brought into your life for a reason. You're supposed to take care of each other. That's all I'm trying to do."

She grinned. "And that's why I love you so much."

He leaned over to give her a quick peck on the lips, his sapphire eyes dancing in the club lights. "You too, you know. You've been a saint when it comes to Hanna, no doubt…but you've also taken Holmes under your wing. You had his back when I was gone…and you have no idea how much I appreciate that."

It was Spencer's turn to feel embarrassed. "He took care of me, too," she reasoned.

"It doesn't matter. You have this giant heart with room for everybody. And – for the record – that's the reason I fell in love with you, too."

She smiled shyly, pulling her hand away only to return to flipping through the menu. If she was being honest, nothing was really sounding appetizing right now. Or perhaps it had something to do with the glaring prices listed next to each item, tainting any desirability they may have previously had.

As they continued browsing in content silence, a familiar tune began to float to her ears from the speakers, as if jarring something within her.

"_Somewhere With You_," she mused quietly. "It's our song."

Toby rose on cue, offering his hand. "May I have this dance?"

"Why certainly," she giggled.

She allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, where a number of other couples had gathered with similar ideas. He placed one hand on the small of her back and took her hand in the other. She was so close to him that she could smell his cologne – which he had not been wearing much as of late.

The scent was overflowing with nostalgia as she recalled the first time they made love. He had been so cautious – so gentle – so concerned for her wellbeing. He had planted butterfly kisses all along her face, asking if she was all right. The initial pain was a distant memory – swallowed up by the pleasure that replaced it. It hadn't really hurt that much, anyhow – the careful adoration in his eyes been more than sufficient in dulling the pain.

It seemed somehow years in the past, though it had only been six months prior.

A lot had happened in those six months. Some of it devastating and difficult – some of it beautiful and intoxicating. A part of her felt as though she had aged several years emotionally since leaving Rosewood. And she was going to take advantage of it – use it to grow and learn and teach.

She would not have changed a thing.

Toby pressed his cheek against her temple, and the vibrations alerted her that he was softly singing along. She attempted to tune everything else out in order to listen.

"_But I'd much rather be somewhere with you, laughing loud on a carnival ride, driving around Saturday night_…"

She chuckled quietly. "I love your singing voice. I don't hear it nearly enough."

"Singing is not my strong suit," Toby agreed, spiraling her into an elaborate twirl. "I'd much rather showcase what I'm good at."

He pulled her quickly back into him, closer than before. She had been able to previously smell his cologne – now she could taste it on her tongue. He pressed her frame tightly against his, and she could feel the warm proximity of all her favorite body parts. The moment gave her pause.

"What you're good at?" she whispered. "What might that be?"

Toby flicked an eyebrow flirtatiously, but did not reply. It spoke for itself, for Spencer could feel the pressure building behind her belly button. His fingertips traced the curvature of her shoulder blades, openly appreciating her backless dress. They left a trail of tingles in their wake. He lowered his mouth to her ear and though it was not touching, she went weak in the knees at his warm breath. His rock-hard chest heavily rose and fell against hers with every breath, pressing tightly against her breasts.

His hands continued to rove her backside in the most innocent of ways – innocent enough for public, anyway, but not innocent in intention – and she felt all of her nerve-endings crying out in pleasant alarm.

She pulled back suddenly, too distracted to be amused at his puzzled expression.

"I need some air," she declared breathlessly. The room had suddenly gone very hot, and she was dizzy from his touch.

Within a matter of moments, she was in the parking lot, making a beeline for his truck parked around back. Part of her was wary of the poorly-lit area, but the other part of her felt as though she would faint if she did not sit down. She yanked the passenger door open and practically collapsed in a heap in the seat, fighting to control her heart rate.

What he did to her was completely maddening. She didn't have to ask what he was good at – she already knew. He knew all of her hot-button spots and how to get her blood pumping in the most precise manner.

And she knew instinctively that if she had not left that dance floor, she would have jumped him in front of everybody there.

And she wouldn't have given a damn.

"Spence?"

He was pulling the driver side door open, her purse slung lazily around his forearm. "Are you all right? Are you sick? I didn't want to leave this inside so I – "

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, roughly pulling him in beside her. His bemused expression made her nearly laugh out loud.

"Shut the door," she commanded breathlessly. Eyes wide as saucers, he did as he was told.

She flung one leg around him so that she was straddling his hips, pressing herself against him possessively. She mindlessly let her hands wander across his chest, drinking in the feel of his body.

"Spencer," he sputtered, surprised. She took his lips in her own to silence him, adjusting her position. The horn honked loudly as she backed into it, causing both of them to laugh.

"You're an asshole," she murmured affectionately, still giggling uncontrollably. "Do you know that?"

"What?" he asked with mock chagrin. He was catching on now, watching helplessly as she made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt.

"You have no idea what you do to women," she continued, latching her mouth onto his collarbone. He gasped slightly in response, arching his neck to allow her better access.

"Wom_an_," he corrected softly. "There's only one."

She smiled into his skin. "Good answer."

He grabbed her chin in his hands, his lips desperate to find hers. As he deepened the kiss, she could feel his shared arousal pressing against her inner thigh. Every bone in her body ached with anticipation, pleading desperately all at once for resolution. She began to grind up against him, delighting in the energy that pulsated between them. It didn't matter even if someone did happen to walk by – this part of the lot was so dark that no one would see a thing.

Just as she was beginning to undo his belt buckle, her phone began to jingle obnoxiously in her purse.

"The phone is ringing," he stated distractedly.

"It can wait." She ran her hands down the length of his torso, pushing his open shirt to the sides. His hands had found her shoulder blades once more, and she shivered at his touch.

The ringing stopped. Spencer was helplessly attempting to shimmy out of her underwear, accidentally sitting on the horn once again, when the phone started a second round of mood-killing cries.

Toby was furiously pressing his hands against her buttocks, his lips at the apex of her cleavage. It was clear that he was easily content with ignoring the phone. Spencer, however, had paused, and was reaching for her purse.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly with disappointment.

"It's Hanna's ring tone," she explained briefly. "We have a system. If we call twice in a row, it's an emergency."

"Nnn," he muttered dejectedly, his head falling back against the seat. Out of breath, she managed to unearth the phone and press it to her ear.

"Hanna? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's supposed to be a special night for you and Toby," Hanna cried apologetically from the other end. "But it's Aria…she needs us."

"Aria?" Spencer demanded, unable to hide the shock in her voice. "What do you mean? What's wrong? Where is she?"

"She's…well…she's right here. Sitting next to me."

Spencer's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. If Aria had gone so far as to hop on a plane from Pennsylvania and come all the way to Michigan, something had to be devastatingly wrong.

Spencer glanced worriedly at Toby, who was now contentedly running his fingertips over the back of her free hand. She quietly mouthed, 'I'm sorry baby,' and he shook his head understandingly in reply. His eyes shined back with concern, as if reassuring her that he would get her wherever she needed to be, no questions asked.

She pressed her lips quickly to his forehead in gratitude, sighing heavily into the phone. "I'll be right there."


	10. To My Readers

A/N: This chapter will ONLY be an author's note. Sorry to disappoint, but I have a few things I need to discuss. I will probably only leave this up for today before deleting it.

All right, y'all. Here's the thing. I posted those two chapters last night – and I got loads of lovely reviews (thank you very much!)…but I realized, as I was reading some of those reviews, that this is why I had writer's block in the first place.

This is not intended to sound blameful. In fact, if anybody is to blame, it's me. I am always asking for your suggestions and ideas, and I feel like I opened it up just a little too much. Don't get me wrong – I love listening to your feedback and what you'd like to see. My goal is to please my readers and give them an enjoyable experience.

However. I'm starting to realize that some – a lot – of suggestions are conflicting. Which means, not only do some opinions conflict with what **I **want to do next as an author, but also that SOMEBODY will be unhappy with the end result. And I really hate to do that to anybody.

I don't mind the suggestions – I actually quite enjoy seeing what you guys would do with the same story. But. But but but. My heart also falls when I see reviews of this format:

'If you're going to go in this direction, please don't. I'd hate that.'

…When it turns out that was exactly what I wanted to do. Then as an author, I feel awkward and uncomfortable proceeding in either direction, because I don't want to displease the reader – but I also don't want to trash an idea that I enjoyed fleshing out.

I hope this all makes sense and you guys understand where I'm coming from. The bottom line is this: I have some controversial ideas for the story's direction, and I'm sure I always will. But some things, I just **have** to proceed with. I have to feel them out and do it for **me**. And I'm sorry if it ends up disappointing any of you.

I feel like I've been talking in circles, so I'll just say it: I am planning on doing a bit of Jaria. Not a lot – they will certainly not become the focal point of the story, or even rise to supporting character standards like Hanna/Holmes. But it's going to happen. And I know some of you will hate me for it – and that really makes me sad. But they are a couple that I ship on the show, and I'd like to explore my options as I write. I want to see how it pans out. And I hope that you will stick around with me, even though I will touch on a ship – briefly – that you hate.

I've admittedly had it planned since the last installment, **Side Effects of Sipping on Sunshine**. And I've put a lot of thought into it and how I want to make it happen. And I just don't feel comfortable turning back on the idea now. Please understand.

I just can't continue trying to please everybody, as much as I'd love to. The story will go nowhere, and I will be displeased with my work in the end. So at the risk of losing readers – which I really hope I don't – I have to do my thing from now on. And I hope you guys understand that. It doesn't mean that I don't want to hear your suggestions – only that I can't keep trying to fulfill all of them. Please, **please** don't hate me for it.

As always, I love you all.

xoxo


	11. Writing Hiatus

Hello my loves.

I'm sorry I haven't been around much. My life has taken a total downturn at the moment and I am trying desperately to get through all that is going on. I have sat down so many times to work on this story, but my mind is just in so many other places right now.

As of now, I am on a self-proclaimed hiatus from writing. I apologize for making all of you wait around for this announcement. I intend to finish the story – I have so many juicy ideas for where I want to go with it and will need to get them down – but please be patient with me as I get past this speed bump.

I hope all of you are well.

xoxo


	12. Aria's Issue

_**A/N:** Hello everyone! Oh, how I've missed you all. I'm sorry about the writing hiatus, but it was much-needed. Life is a bitch sometimes, ya know?_

_Anyway. I want to keep this short so I'll just say this real quick: some of Aria's problem was implicitly hinted at in SESOS when Hanna found her and Jason talking outside. I've had this plot planned for a while. And sorry-not-sorry, I love Jaria. Here's a short refresher from that chapter just in case y'all are blanking: _

_**She had hardly descended the porch steps before she caught them out of the corner of her eye, talking feverishly beneath the hibernating cherry blossom tree in the front yard.**_

_**"…of all the things to do when this is going on," Aria was venting sadly, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I don't have time to deal with this right now – and neither would my parents…"**_

_**"You have to tell him," Jason murmured, taking her gently by the hands. "It's not something you can keep to yourself. It will make you insane."**_

_**Aria shook her head fervently. "No. I can't. I'm not going to rush back into this relationship with more baggage than I had when we split up."**_

_**"But he loves you," Jason said softly. "He would want to know…to be there for you…and take care of you."**_

_**Hanna had the distinct feeling that Jason's soliloquy was dripping with hidden meaning. He reached out to affectionately tuck a piece of hair behind Aria's ear.**_

_**"It's only fair to give him that chance."**_

_**Aria exhaled with a loud whoosh, wiping the tears away from her face. She politely stepped away from Jason's hold, as if uncertain of how to otherwise let him down easy. "You're right. I should. I should go talk to him…"**_

_**Hanna chose that moment to make her presence known. With a soft clearing of her throat, both Aria and Jason whipped around to face her, looking akin to two deer caught in headlights.**_

_**"Aria," she began pathetically, "are you okay?"**_

_**Jason took a step back from Aria, as if burned by their proximity. "I'll give you girls a chance to talk…excuse me…" He ducked quickly around Hanna and back into the house, avoiding eye contact the entire way.**_

_**Hanna looked questioningly at Aria, awaiting a feasible explanation. Though the weather was slightly warmer today than it had been, the chill on the wind was still enough to make her breath come out in wisps. She wanted desperately to ask about what Aria was hiding from Ezra, but decided against invading her privacy. She would talk to her when she was ready.**_

_Enjoy this chapter and look for another one soon!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

Toby was wonderful. He always had been, and he always would be. Spencer could hardly imagine what anybody else's reaction would have been to her need to cut their date short. Annoyance. Disdain. Frustration.

But not Toby.

He cared about the people in his life just as much as she did. And he understood the meaning of true friendship. Of emergencies – of going to someone in need.

And she loved him all-the-more for it. She had certainly needed that reassurance on the drive back from the restaurant. She had been somewhat in a panic for most of the ride, comforted only by Toby's consistent words of wisdom.

"At least she knows she can count on you and Hanna," he had insisted. "You guys will know what to do to help her. No matter what's wrong."

She knew in her heart that he was right. Aria was oftentimes a bank vault of her own secrets. She did not do well asking for help. If she had come all this way – had admitted that she needed them – that was the most important part. Spencer would not allow anyone to cause her pain. Ever. She would make sure of it.

They had hardly pulled in the driveway before Spencer was already bounding out of the truck. Toby followed helplessly behind her, steadying her shaky frame as they hurried up the porch steps. She turned to face him briefly, running her hands across his chest.

"Thank you for tonight. For _everything _tonight," she whispered.

His azure eyes sparkled in the starlight as he leaned his forehead against hers. "You're a good friend, Spencer Cavanaugh. It only makes me love you more."

She smiled sadly as he brushed his lips against her cold nose. They were warm and comforting.

"C'mon," he urged, pushing the door open and holding it for her. "I know you want to see how she's doing."

The living room was quiet, save for the low volume of the television. Holmes was half asleep in the armchair, stirring only when Spencer flung the door open noisily.

"Where is she?" Spencer demanded breathlessly. Toby was not far behind, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Holmes sat up and pathetically stretched. He looked exhausted. Spencer couldn't necessarily blame him – his persistent anxiety had finally reached a downturn. He could breathe a sigh of relief. And now, in this brief moment of respite before the throes of pregnancy really reared their ugly heads, he was entitled to a bit of mental and physical hibernation.

He pointed lazily toward the staircase. "Hanna's room."

"All right." Spencer was hurriedly kicking off her heels on her way to the stairs, stumbling slightly as she went.

"Tell her I said hi," Toby offered pathetically.

Spencer blew him a kiss from the landing. "I love you!" she called over her shoulder.

She took the rest of the stairs two at a time, ignoring the seizing feeling in her calves. A low thrum of voices, only barely audible, was coming from Hanna's room. She couldn't help but fear the absolute worst as she grabbed the doorknob and pushed.

"Aria, what's - " She paused mid-sentence, her words lost somewhere in her throat. Aria was cuddled into Hanna's side against the head of the bed, eyes red and puffy, as Hanna toyed mindlessly with the smaller girl's hair. Another girl lay on her belly at the foot of the bed, looking up eagerly as the door swung open.

"Emily," Spencer breathed. "You too?"

The three girls were quiet for a moment. This split second of pregnant silence only worried Spencer more, resulting in her taking what could only be explained as a bounding leap onto the middle part of the bed.

"What happened? Are you okay? Who do I need to stab?"

Aria chuckled darkly through her tears, reaching out to pull Spencer into the embrace that she and Hanna shared. Spencer soaked in the scent of Aria's shampoo, a smell she had grown to miss terribly. When she let go, she leaned back against Emily to gather her composure.

"I'm fine," Aria insisted immediately. She sat up and wiped her eyes as if to prove it. "It's just…you know…your everyday, run-of-the-mill girl problems."

"Don't tell me you flew all the way out here because of PMS," Spencer joked. "What's going on?"

Aria exhaled heavily before looking to Hanna for guidance. Hanna squeezed her hand softly.

"Ezra and I broke up," she declared at last. Spencer expected to be more surprised to hear it than she actually was. Somehow, deep down, she had seen it coming.

"Why?"

"Because all men are bastards," Hanna interjected with a roll of her eyes. Emily laughed quietly, causing Spencer's frame to shake gently against her. The other three looked to her curiously, at which she blushed.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just thinking about how grateful I am that I like women."

Spencer grinned. Though Emily's sense of humor was often misplaced, she appreciated the way in which she was able to ease the tension.

"It's…a lot of stuff," Aria continued blankly. "His son…my parents…my brother."

Spencer arched an eyebrow. "And all of those things relate to each other, how?"

Aria chewed on her lower lip, as if trying to decide how to best sum up a long story.

"All right. I haven't told you this. In fact, for a long time, the only person who knew was Jason…" Spencer had to fight to conceal the curiosity in her face, hoping it would go by unnoticed. If Aria saw it, she did not mention it. "But last year, Mike tried to kill himself."

"What?" Spencer cried, her voice traveling up several octaves. Emily jumped slightly behind her in surprise.

"He overdosed on some sleeping pills. Jason was the one who found him," Aria continued. "He had been working on the DiLaurentis house for some extra money, and didn't show up to work that day. No one else was home, so when Jason came by to check on him…"

There was a bit of silence as Spencer digested this. Aria took a deep breath before going on.

"Anyway. My parents had a really hard time with it. They couldn't agree on how to handle it, and things just started getting progressively worse. There was so much tension that Mike actually stayed with Jason for a while to get away from their drama."

"And how does Ezra fit into this?" Spencer pressed. She was imagining the worst and could feel her anger bubbling beneath the surface already.

"Well, Jason and I were seeing each other for a while…but then Ezra and I started talking about getting back together. I never told him what happened…but there was distance. He knew it. I knew it. He talked about wanting to get engaged, but I think the only reason he was even considering it was because he thought it would fix what was broken. My parents never supported us getting back together, and made it a habit of bringing up Jason in front of him. Which, of course, pissed him off. And then with him finding out about his son, it just all went more downhill from there."

"And Jason?" Spencer asked quietly. She knew that he was a sensitive topic between her and Aria ever since discovering that they were half-brother and sister.

"Supportive. As always," Aria muttered disdainfully, wiping at the corners of her eyes once more. "Which only makes my life that much more complicated."

Spencer inhaled sharply, taking all of the information in. By the expression on Hanna's face, she could tell that she was the last to hear the story.

"I just needed to get away for a while," Aria concluded, leaning her head back into the crook of Hanna's neck. "My parents are insane, and having both Ezra and Jason within driving distance has bad news written all over it."

"How's Mike?" Spencer murmured.

"He's fine, oddly enough," Aria replied. "He joined a support group and seems to be working through it pretty well. It's everyone else around him that can't move on."

Spencer felt a wave of relief on Aria's behalf.

"What about classes?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Wow," Hanna mused, glancing at her watch. "It took her a full ten minutes to bring up school! I thought for sure she'd ask sooner!"

"Which means you owe me ten bucks," Emily declared.

Spencer executed what she hoped was an effective glare in Emily's direction, feeling slightly self-conscious when Emily only laughed in reply.

"Not to worry, Spence. We haven't ruined our futures," she joked.

"I'm taking some time off," Aria explained confidently, clearly having thought through the issue carefully. "God knows I need to put my head back together."

"And I'm transferring out here," Emily added. "I think we both needed to get out of state for a while."

"We've already been talking to an apartment complex in the area," Aria said. "We're going to go out there tomorrow to run our applications."

The wealth of information was enough to send Spencer into a tailspin.

"That's – that's great!" she said at last.

"Yeah. I want you both as close to me as possible while this bun is in the oven," Hanna agreed. "I need all the support I can get."

"Aww," Aria gushed, patting Hanna lightly on the belly. "Don't you worry. Auntie Aria won't be leaving you any time soon."

The girls laughed at Aria's baby talk voice, quietly enjoying the fact that they were all in the same room once again. Regardless of the circumstances that brought them there.

Spencer felt oddly refreshed. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed them, and felt somehow more complete with them at her side. She knew that Hanna was grateful as well to have additional companionship during her pregnancy – big life events like that just didn't feel right without loved ones around to share.

"All right, I hate to be the party pooper, but I need to get some rest," Aria quipped. "It's been a long day and I'm exhausted."

"Same here," Emily agreed. "I feel like I haven't slept in days."

"That's fine," Hanna said, standing up and fluffing the pillows near Aria's head. "You guys can stay in my room tonight. I'll sleep with Derek."

"Thank God," Spencer muttered. Hanna shot her a look comprised of confusion and indignance. "I mean – he'll be happy to have you back. Trust me."

And it was the truth. Spencer had been the primary shoulder for Holmes to cry on during Hanna's stint of mixed feelings, and she knew better than anyone how much he had missed her.

Hanna rolled her eyes good-naturedly, pulling Spencer off the bed so as to let Emily and Aria get situated. "You guys get some sleep. Just let me know if you need anything."

Aria was already yawning gratuitously as Emily made her way under the covers. "Sounding like a mom already," she giggled.

Hanna beamed. Spencer knew that despite the simplicity of the comment, it meant the world to Hanna.

"See you in the morning," Hanna chirped as she shut the light off.

* * *

"…And then told me there's no way she's missing out on this, and insisted on coming up here," Holmes concluded, collapsing once more into his arm chair. "I'd hate to have her go to a hotel, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with you and Spencer that she stay here."

"Of course she can. She's your sister," Toby agreed, taking a long sip of his bottle of water. "I'm sure Spencer won't mind either."

"Good," Holmes breathed. "That's such a relief. I mean, I wish she wouldn't uproot herself in the first place, but…"

"…But you're her brother and she loves you," Toby reasoned. "She wants to be here for you during times like this."

"I suppose," Holmes said pensively. "If it were up to my dad, he'd be on the next flight up here, too."

Toby chuckled. He remembered the vivacious nature of Jared Holmes, and had no doubt in his mind that he was absolutely brimming with pride at the thought of his first grandchild.

Holmes's phone started to ring from somewhere in the depths of his pocket. He groaned loudly. "If this is Shayla calling me again…" he muttered irritably, putting it to his ear without even looking at the screen. "Hello?"

Toby smiled quietly to himself. Holmes may have complained about his family, but he was well aware that he cherished them more than words could express.

"I – yes, this is Specialist Holmes."

Toby sat up quickly.

"I – well – " Holmes stuttered, the color in his face draining. Toby studied him worriedly, moving to the closer end of the couch.

"I – yes – I understand, sir."

There was a distinct glistening in his eyes now. Toby could practically feel his heart plummeting into the pit of his stomach.

"Yes…Okay…You have a good night too, sir."

Holmes pulled the phone away from his ear slowly, studying it as if it was about to explode in his hands without warning. He was purposefully avoiding Toby's eyes.

"Who was that?" Toby demanded.

"Sergeant Decker," Holmes breathed. Decker was the team leader for his and Toby's platoon.

"What did he say?"

Holmes took a deep, shuddering breath, appearing as though he would burst into tears at any moment. "He said that 1522 is in need of military police specialists." He squared his jaw and finally met Toby's gaze. "They're sending me to Afghanistan."


	13. Honesty - Clearly The Best Policy

****_**A/N: **This chapter is a bit more light-hearted than I originally intended. But God knows we need a couple of laughs after PLL on Tuesday. _

_Anyone else wallowing in self-pity since Spencer found out about Toby? Anyone? I feel pathetic that this show has consumed my life. Blarghhhh. _

_I wrote a one-shot called Behind Blue Eyes over the weekend before the reveal - a brief story about Toby's decision to join the A-Team. I've had like 600 hits but only a couple reviews. I'd really appreciate your feedback._

_As always, you guys are by far my favorite people in the world. I love you all!_

_**xoxo**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

It was as though all of the moisture had been unceremoniously siphoned from Toby's mouth. Holmes was fiddling with his phone, his eyes trained off somewhere in the distance. Somewhere that went far beyond the room they sat in.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. To Toby, this pause felt like hours, though in reality it lasted only a few seconds.

"No," he breathed at last, then felt immediately pathetic. "I mean – they can't. There's got to be something in the by-laws…"

"There isn't," Holmes replied darkly. When Toby looked at him quizzically, Holmes quickly explained himself. "I already looked into it last week. You know…just in case…"

Toby released the breath that he had not realized he'd been holding. There was little more that he could say, despite how desperately he wanted to respond. The military certainly did not mess around with enlistment contracts – they took their shit seriously.

He wanted to say something of comfort nonetheless. Even if it was a white lie. Something about talking to Sergeant Decker and explaining the situation…asking someone else to deploy in his stead. Unfortunately, he knew the likelihood of this happening was slim to none.

"I can't believe this," Holmes mumbled quietly. Toby could distinctly hear the struggle to talk around the lump lodged in his throat. "I mean, six months ago this would have been fine. Even a _couple _months ago. I could have made it work. But now…Now everything is…different."

The baby. He didn't need to say it out loud for Toby to understand what he meant.

"How am I going to tell Hanna?" he murmured. "After everything that we've been through – after all of the promises I made…" He involuntarily released a frustrated whimper, cradling his head in his hands, and the shocked silence resumed.

"…don't even think about it for a second, Hanna! They just broke up!"

"C'mon, Spence…Jason's her soul mate! She just needs our help to realize it."

Spencer and Hanna were bounding down the stairs laughingly, so distracted by the discussion about Aria's love life that they did not pay any mind to what was happening below them. Holmes quickly gathered his composure, clearing his throat and stubbornly pressing the balls of his hands against his eyes as if to push the tears back in. He was back to sitting up straight, as though nothing had happened, by the time Hanna came up behind him to lovingly wrap her arms around his shoulders.

"Speaking of soul mates…" She enthusiastically pressed her lips against his temple, then craned her neck to get a proper look at him. She had clearly sensed that something was different about his mood. "What's wrong? Another headache?"

Holmes chanced one last glance at Toby, and it said everything he needed to know. That this information was to be kept strictly secret for the time being, until Holmes figured out how he was going to tell her. That he appreciated Toby's friendship beyond measure – that he was grateful for the comfort he had provided after the phone call, albeit brief.

Toby hoped to convey a message of his own – that he would do anything he could to take care of Hanna while Holmes was away. Holmes had done the same for Spencer, after all. And Toby was a strong believer in karmic debt and returning favors.

And that mere second was enough. Holmes pasted a smile on his face – as genuine as he could muster – and turned his head to meet Hanna's lips.

"Yeah, my head is pounding. You know how I am when I don't have caffeine."

"Well then I'll make you some coffee," she decided lightly. As soon as she had removed her arms and was retreating back toward the kitchen, Toby caught a brief glimpse of Holmes's face turning dark once more. It was as though her mere presence sufficed to uplift him – and when she walked away, his morbid thoughts returned.

"What were you guys talking about?" Spencer asked cheerfully, unceremoniously collapsing onto Toby's lap. He jokingly '_oomphed_' in reply.

"My uh, my sister," Holmes explained, suddenly finding that the home screen of his phone was intensely fascinating. "She wants to come up to see me. Meet Hanna. You know. The normal auntie stuff."

"Oh, that's great!" Spencer said. She turned her head to call into the kitchen. "Hanna! Did you hear that? Holmes's sister is coming to visit!"

There was a distinct '_thunk_!' that followed – likely Hanna knocking her head on the inside of a cabinet. Within seconds she was peering over the bar counter, looking harried.

"She's _what_? I'm not ready to meet her!"

Her alarm seemed to catch Holmes off guard. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water for a moment, before looking desperately toward Toby for assistance.

"I – I look horrible! I'm frumpy and I'm bloated and…and…I'll need to get my hair cut – and re-dyed. And I'll need a mani-pedi. Spencer, you'll come with me, right? Oh, my God. What if she doesn't like me?" Hanna was manically pacing in the kitchen now, the small can of Holmes's favorite coffee still clutched in her hand, forgotten. She suddenly threw the upper half of her body onto the bar counter in a melodramatic display of despair, attributed most predictably to her hormones. These intense mood swings were happening more frequently now, and tended to take Toby by surprise less and less each day.

Nevertheless, the other three looked at one another, dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

She made a whimpering noise as she cradled her face in her arms, wildly shaking her head in disagreement. When she spoke again, her voice was muffled, buried in the sleeves of her sweater. "I was not prepared for this _at all_!"

Something dawned briefly on Holmes's face – relief, perhaps, that she was not angry, as he had initially thought – before he jumped up and hastily made his way to the bar. He reached across the counter immediately, extracting her hands from beneath her face, and squeezed them tightly.

"Don't be ridiculous," he began rationally. "She's going to love you."

Hanna's head remained limp, face-down on the countertop without support now. She repeated the fervent headshake, and released a tired sob.

"She's – going – to – _hate_ – me!" Her words were staccatoed by the persistent drone of her tears. "I'm just some – some – pregnant whore that's ruining her brother's life!"

"No, no, no," Holmes corrected lovingly, freeing one of his hands to smooth down her hair. "For one thing, nobody thinks that. Least of all me."

At this, she lifted her head slowly, looking at him helplessly with her watery blue eyes.

"And my family is so excited to meet you," he continued. "Trust me."

She sniffled quietly, appearing to relax in slight, but did not reply. Toby felt a painful clenching in his heart as he interpreted the hidden meaning behind the scene unfolding before him. Holmes knew her best – he knew how to sooth her when she was hysterical. He knew how to lift her spirits when she was feeling insecure. And most of all, he knew how to do it in a way that appeared to be effortless.

He could never replace that. Try as he might, he could _attempt_ to do all these same things for Hanna when Holmes was gone – but he would never fill those kind-hearted, gentle, ambitious shoes. Hell, he didn't even know the first thing about babies. The complicated science behind putting on a diaper was enough to give him an aneurism – how was he supposed to do any of the things that Holmes would need him to help with?

It was a rude awakening. Nobody else could be the person that Hanna needed with Holmes gone – no matter how persistently Toby may try to calm her down and ease her worries, he would never be Holmes. Neither him nor Spencer had the same magic touch that he did. The same trust in Hanna's heart.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed Spencer had extracted herself from his lap. She was gently tugging on his hand now, pulling him into a standing position and silently leading him down the opposite hall to the den. Neither of them spoke as they tiptoed away to let the two talk privately; only once they had quietly shut the door behind them did Spencer sigh heavily.

"He's amazing with her," she mused admirably. "I'll be the first to say it – I'm _so_ glad he turned out to be the father. I can't imagine anyone else doing this good of a job."

"Mmm," Toby agreed noncommittally as he sank tiredly onto the couch. The words she spoke only fueled his anxiety all-the-more, and he was fighting to control the pesky stinging in the corners of his eyes. Spencer did not appear to notice how distracted he was feeling, for she curled up beside him to nuzzle her nose in his neck.

"Your best friend is a saint," she whispered. She then planted a chaste kiss where her lips rested. "I never thought I'd see the day when anyone actually understood – I mean _really understood_ Hanna Marin."

He gulped involuntarily in a feeble attempt to suppress the emotional upheaval he was feeling. Holmes's kind offer to take care of Spencer six months ago was nothing compared to this. Toby had his work cut out for him in a very real, very terrifying way. It wasn't even that he was worried for himself – he was worried for Hanna. For Holmes. For that innocent little baby that he was sure to traumatize for life with his glaring inexperience from the moment he touched it…

"Did you hear what I said?" Spencer asked suddenly, lifting herself into a sitting position to examine his face. She was still wearing the dress that she had chosen for their date, and did not seem to be troubled by the fact that it had been hiked considerably up her hip, revealing an imperceptible thread of her g-string. Under any normal circumstances, he would have found this virtually impossible to ignore. However, his mind was entirely somewhere else.

"Yeah, I heard you. You said he's a saint for understanding Hanna the way he does," he answered robotically. As an afterthought, he forced a smile. Likely it looked more like a grimace.

"No, after that," Spencer pressed, looking increasingly more suspicious as her analysis of his body language continued.

Oh, shit. There was something _after_ that? He was toast.

"It was about the uh…about the uh…" He was attempting to ignore the way her left eyebrow had traveled confrontationally up her forehead, her arms crossed as she impatiently waited for his answer.

"Yes?"

He inhaled sharply. "The…baby?" He instantly regretted the way the second syllable of 'baby' jumped up an octave in a manner of uncertainty. It was evidently troubling to Spencer, as well, who practically leapt to the other side of the couch, as though burned by his stupidity.

"I knew you weren't listening," she accused irritably. Almost as soon as she had said it, she sighed, and her face softened. "What's going on, Toby? Is something the matter?"

"No," he answered quickly. Too quickly. "It's nothing. Really. I swear."

"Toby James Cavanaugh," she growled. "Don't try to lie to me."

He sighed heavily, allowing his body to droop back against the couch. "I wish I could tell you, baby. I really do…But…"

There was a moment of silence. "I see," she said at last, looking down at her hands in her lap. Toby felt immediately guilty. If it were up to him, he would never keep anything from her. He had been burned enough by other people doing it to him – he hated to put her through the same thing. He loved her far too much.

He had to tell her something. Anything. Anything to take that look of complete heartbreak off her face.

"It's just…" he began. She looked at him expectantly, awaiting an explanation.

He wasn't sure what made him say what he did next. Perhaps it was the way she averted her gaze so that he would not see the pools forming in her eyes. Or the way she self-consciously wrapped her arms around her own waist, as if she were holding in her embarrassment. Or maybe it was the fact that he hated keeping secrets in the first place, and knew that he could pretend it was_ anything_ else other than what it actually was, and it would make her feel better.

_He could have said __**anything**__. _Stress at work. Stress about money. Stress about Aria.

But instead, he was stupid enough to blurt out what was by far the most complicated response he could have possibly thought of.

"Holmes's sister is in love with me."

The moment it came out, he felt his own face flush scarlet in surprise. Spencer had completely rotated her body to face him head-on, her mouth agape.

"Oh, my God, really?" she demanded. "When? Why?"

His brain was practically imploding. _Don't do it. Fix it. Right now. Immediately. Change it to something else. __**ANYTHING ELSE**__. _

"When she came to visit Holmes when he graduated from basic." He was alarmed when he realized he no longer had any control over what was coming out of his mouth.

"W-what happened?" Spencer asked, her voice becoming shriller the second.

"She – she said she had a thing for army guys." _No. NO. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_

Spencer was still in utter shock. She had scooted back down the length of the couch to look him desperately in the eye. "What did you tell her?"

"Well I – I told her no," he stated simply, mildly offended that Spencer would expect him to react any other way. Then it occurred to him how foolish this annoyance was, considering the story was _complete and utter bullshit_ to start with.

She exhaled in a loud huff, rising to her feet. "Well, then her staying here is out of the question. That's just too awkward for me. And you! Especially you!"

For all of the nonsense he had just spewed, Toby was now at a loss for words. Instead he was only able to whimper something that resembled '_mmhmm_.'

She was deep in though. He could tell by the way she was twirling the end of her hair on her finger. "Well we've got to tell Holmes. Immediately. Before he gets too attached to the idea of her staying here."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Toby replied distractedly. Before he had a chance to realize what he was agreeing to, she was already out the door and halfway down the hall. "I mean – no! Spencer! Wait!" He leapt to his feet, tripping over the afghan rug on the floor and none-too-gracefully face-planting. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed out after her.

She was marching up to Holmes and Hanna, who were now cuddling on the couch watching TV, looking positively possessed with jealousy.

"Holmes, we have to talk."

He snapped his head toward Toby in desperation, the color draining from his face. All Toby could do in reply was shake his head fervently from behind Spencer and gesticulate furiously with his hands.

"I don't think it's a good idea for your sister to stay here."

Holmes seemed almost unfazed by Toby's display, his eyes traveling immediately back to Spencer for an explanation. "What do you mean? Why?"

"Well, she's in love with Toby," Spencer answered matter-of-factly, as though this were the obvious reason. She crossed her arms over her chest indignantly, as if preparing for him to argue.

Holmes burst out into laughter. The other three watched him worriedly, afraid he was finally having the mental breakdown they had been so vigilantly on the lookout for.

"No, she's not," he declared, clutching at the stitch in his side. "She's a lesbian!"

Toby felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. This was his luck. This was _always his luck_. A lesbian? Since when?! Holmes had never shared this particular family jewel with him before…

"A – a lesbian?" Spencer asked breathlessly. "How – I mean – since when?"

"Since _forever_!" Holmes guffawed. "She came out when she was a freshman in high school."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Spencer slowly turned to peer at Toby over her shoulder, her face aghast with disappointment. She shook her head at him, as if to express her disbelief in his behavior. Without another word, she spun on her heels and headed directly for the staircase, mounting them two at a time. The slam of the bedroom door caused Toby to flinch, wincing as he considered all that had just happened.

"Dude," Holmes began quietly. "What the hell is going on?"

"She uh…she knows something's on my mind," he stated simply, feeling rather resentful of Holmes all of a sudden. He massaged his jaw irritably. "I had to tell her _something_."

Realization seemed to dawn on Holmes's face. His expression fell, and he grimaced apologetically.

"I better go talk to her," Toby decided, hurrying past them to make his way to follow her. What he was going to say, he wasn't sure – but God knew it couldn't be any more stupid than what he had already.


	14. Who's Keeping Score?

_**A/N: **I'll keep it short and sweet. _

_Please read "**Behind Blue Eyes**" and "**Don't Look Back**", two other Spoby/Toby is 'A' fan fictions that I wrote this week. They've gotten hits like crazy, but I have very few reviews. And I'd love your input, my lovelies. _

_xoxo_

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

The door to the bedroom was locked. He'd expected as much.

Spencer had a terrible habit of shutting out the world when she was angry, and he was often no exception. She would hibernate in their bedroom for a few minutes, silently seething in solitude until she was ready to talk. He knew she would not open up until she had calmed down, at least a little bit. And even then she may still want nothing to do with him for a while.

It was pointless, really, _to_ expect anything else.

But he knocked anyway.

"Spencer…" he began, leaning his forehead limply against the door. "Spencer, I'm sorry."

She did not reply. Despite the fact that he'd been prepared for such an outcome, it did not hurt any less.

"If you open the door, I can explain everything. But you have to trust me."

He allowed her time for the message to sink in. This was not something he could discuss in open, with so many sets of ears every which way. He hoped she knew him well enough to understand this much.

He let several moments pass. Not a peep.

He sighed heavily, sliding down the length of the door so that he was sitting against it. Turning his head to the side, his cheek against the mahogany, he tried once more. "Spencer, please."

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It occurred to him distantly that this occasion was the exception, not the rule, to Spencer's normal process. Ordinarily she would shun him for a moment, of course – but usually, after a second or two of groveling, she would give him the opportunity to speak. And regardless of her irritation with him, she would listen – and _then_ decide whether or not she still wanted to be angry.

The whole situation was ridiculous. He was suddenly feeling inexplicably frustrated with Spencer for ignoring him. Sure – he had just told a massively useless lie. And fine, she was probably feeling foolish for confronting Holmes about it. And okay, _maybe_ she was hurt that he was still keeping something from her…

It was Holmes, really. He was mad at Holmes for expecting him to keep this a secret. For counting on him to keep his mouth shut. Yeah, it was what best friends did for one another…but it just _figured_ that trying to be a good friend would bite Toby in the ass.

However…he knew, somewhere beneath the surface, that it wasn't Holmes's fault, either. Not really. It wasn't as though Holmes had asked him to keep this information under-wraps for days or weeks at a time. It had _just _happenednot even an hour ago. He would be telling Hanna soon enough.

And even if it did take him longer than expected to confess, Toby could not fault him. He had done the same thing six months ago, after all.

He just hoped that Holmes made a better decision in the long run than he had. Delaying the inevitable conversation last autumn had almost cost him his entire relationship with Spencer.

He sighed quietly to nobody in particular. It was _himself _he was truly angry with. For handling the situation as horrifically as he had.

The sound of a door creaking open down the hall startled him. He had momentarily forgotten that Aria was there.

Only, it wasn't Aria. It was Emily, tiptoeing toward the staircase, doing her damnedest not to cause a stir.

"Em?" he asked, bewildered. Spencer had not mentioned that Emily was here _with_ Aria. Then again, she hadn't had much of an opportunity before he had started running his damn mouth…

Emily practically jumped out of her skin, not having noticed his presence. Placing a hand to her wildly beating heart, she chuckled sheepishly.

"Toby," she returned warmly. She glanced briefly at the stairs and back at him, choosing to put her original mission on hold as she came to stand before him. "I'm sorry, I was just going to get a glass of water."

"What do you need to apologize for?" Toby scoffed good-naturedly. "People _do_ get thirsty from time to time."

She had stopped listening to him, and instead was assessing his current position. Her brow furrowed in concern.

"What are you doing on the floor?" she asked, despite the fact that he was fairly certain she already knew the answer.

"Atoning," he muttered sardonically, rapping a single knuckle quietly against the wood behind him as if to indicate that Spencer was inside.

Emily winced understandingly as she sat down beside him, craning her neck to peer up at the doorknob.

"Locked?"

"Oh yeah."

She chuckled in spite of the situation, gently knocking her elbow against his. "She'll be okay. Sometimes you just have to let her fume for a while – but she burns out easily enough."

Toby pulled a face, as if to say 'we'll see.' He opted to change the subject.

"So what brings _you_ to here? I mean – not _here-_here – " he gestured to the area they were sitting in to clarify that he wasn't being literal – "_Ann Arbor_-here."

"U of M's swim team," she explained concisely, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm transferring."

Toby felt his heart swell with mirth. The idea of Emily being within visiting distance lightened his mood considerably.

"That's – that's great!" he sputtered. "What made you decide that?"

She gave a slight shrug. "Rosewood may be a small town, Toby, but you of all people know that its grasp has a wide radius."

Toby didn't have to ask her to elaborate. He knew that she was still grieving Maya's tragic passing, even after all this time. His fingers found hers and squeezed gently.

She seemed to be attempting to deflect this very memory. After a moment she squeezed back, and put a half-hearted smile on once more. "Who doesn't need a fresh start once in a while, right?"

He offered a silent nod and a sad smile in return.

"Well I'm glad you're here."

She raised his hand to clasp it appreciatively between both of her own, beaming at the tungsten wedding ring on his third finger.

"Me too."

There was another moment of silence in which they simply looked at one another, speaking volumes despite the absence of words. He had missed her terribly.

"Well," she decided at last, patting him on the knee and rising to her feet once more. "I'm going to go get that glass of water and attempt to get some sleep."

"All right," Toby consented, an idea occurring to him. "Hey – what do you say we go out for brunch tomorrow?"

She grinned. "I'd really like that." Making her way back to the staircase, she glanced over her shoulder one last time. "Good night, Toby."

"Night, Em." He watched her retreating figure. Once he could no longer see her, he felt the shadow of dismay fall upon him again. She had some kind of magical way of calming all of the storms brewing in his head whenever they spoke. But now that he was alone once more…

As if his mind was being read, the door behind him opened suddenly inward. He only barely caught himself before he fell backwards, looking up in alarm.

"Spencer," he breathed, hopping to his feet. Her eyes were still cloudy with the threat of tears, and her mouth was a thin line of irritation.

"I hope you have a _really_ good reason for humiliating me."

He hastily grabbed her hands in his, bringing them to his lips to plant a chaste kiss. "I do – I do – really, I do. But I can't talk about it out here." He jerked his chin pointedly at the hallway, hoping she would grasp his meaning.

She did. After a moment of consideration, she stepped aside, holding the door open for him. Once he had entered, she shut it quietly behind them once more, standing against it with her arms crossed defiantly.

Toby let out his breath in a loud '_whoosh_,' combing his fingers through his hair nervously. "Okay. I'm sorry about lying – "

"Lying?" she demanded, arching an eyebrow at him incredulously. "If that's your version of lying, you really suck at it."

_Spencer: 1…Toby: 0. _

He continued, despite her interruption.

"…And I'm sorry that Holmes laughed at you…"

"Actually, I think he was more laughing at _you_," she argued coldly. "You're the one, after all, who thought a gay woman was in love with you."

Ouch.

_Spencer: 2…Toby: negative million._

He winced. "I didn't – I mean – I _knew_ she wasn't..."

"Then why did you say it?" she asked brashly.

Toby rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, growing more frustrated as the conversation wound on. "Because I'm a dumbass. Okay? Because I suck at keeping secrets, and I suck at lying, and I suck at cover stories. And it just figures – it just _fucking _figures - that I'd screw everything up when all I'm trying to do is protect my best friend. Here I am – trying to come up with some harmless white lie to avoid hurting your feelings – something that I think sounds _relatively_ realistic – and Holmes's sister doesn't even bark up the penis tree." He exhaled harshly when his monologue ended, looking to Spencer for a reaction.

Her face remained impassive at first – her eyes still burning daggers into his very being. But then, after a moment, her mouth melted involuntarily into a coy smirk.

"Penis tree?" she demanded quietly.

He crossed his arms over his chest defensively at her teasing. Granted, it sounded ridiculous when it came out of her mouth – a testament to why she was so amused – but he felt suddenly very intent on standing by what he had said. So, with as much confidence as he could muster, he growled, "Yeah. Penis tree."

That put her over the edge. She made a raspberry sound with her mouth as she burst out laughing, doubling over at the stitch in her side.

He was taken aback by this sudden change of mood. He looked at her uncertainly, as if afraid to drop the ball just yet.

"Spencer?" he asked meekly.

This only made her laugh harder. She was wiping tears from her eyes now, unable to control the party in her funny bone.

"Oh, Toby…" she said at last, her words punctuated by residual giggles. She moved toward him, encircling her arms around his waist. "Baby, I love you."

He recoiled his head only slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. He was admittedly still waiting for the bottom to drop out again. "I love you, too…" he replied carefully.

"It's okay," she continued, placing her hands on his chest and planting tiny, gentle punches there. "I know you've never lied to me before…so you must have had a really good reason this time."

He paused at that, stunned by her confidence. "How do you know I've never lied to you?"

"Honey," she began with an apologetic wince, reaching out to cup his face, "because now I know how much you _suck _at it."

He was only offended for a moment before he consented to agreeing.

Yes. He did suck at it. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, it would not stop being true.

"Yeah," he said slowly, breaking into a smile. They both chuckled for a moment before he brought his eyes back to hers, serious once more. "You know I would tell you in a heartbeat if it was my secret to tell."

She stroked his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. "I know," she murmured. "Can I ask you something, though?"

He nodded briefly.

"Is it…is it bad?"

He pursed his lips but did not respond.

"I mean – I guess that's not fair of me to ask," she said as an afterthought. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I guess…what I need to know is…" She averted her eyes to the dimples on his chin, as if too shy to ask the question to his face. "Does he love her?"

So she had surmised that it was about Holmes, and by extension about Hanna. He ran his hands gently up and down her back.

"Just as much as I love you," he offered quietly.

She nodded pensively. "And is he committed to her?"

He brought his hands around to cup her face, placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Yes."

She breathed a half-hearted sigh of relief. "All right. Well, then I guess that's all that matters."

He placed his finger beneath her chin to tilt her gaze back to his, finding that he was lost in the chocolate depths of her eyes.

"I am so sorry," he whispered.

She nodded, a small but genuine smile grazing her features. "I know."

He lowered his lips to hers, gingerly entrapping them in a kiss. She returned it gladly, running her hands up the length of his torso until she was grasping his shoulders. With this new-found point of leverage, she delivered one swift push that sent him backwards onto the bed.

The fact that he was caught so off-guard by this caused her to grin. She climbed onto the bed with her hands and knees, hovering over him. Her mouth was only inches away from his, her hair cascading around him like silken curtains. He tilted his chin upward to kiss her once more, but she coyly pulled out of his reach.

"Spencer," he muttered with weakened irritation. She was torturing him.

She merely smirked flirtatiously in response, her hands brushing up against the barrier of his belt buckle.

"I think it's my turn to apologize now."

_Toby: 0,_

_Spencer: Infinity. _


	15. Good Old Uncle Sam

_**A/N:** So, I figured out exactly how I'm going to finish the trilogy out. Still fleshing out the finer details, but I'm pretty confident about the direction I decided to take. _

_If you haven't already, please check out some of the other PLL pieces I've been working on. I'd really appreciate your input. _

_Please review. You'd be amazed how much it helps._

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

The next week passed by without incident. It was relatively calm and quiet – a phenomenon that had been somehow missing from their lives for the past several months – and Holmes could not be more grateful for the relief it brought. He had grown so accustomed to a whirlwind of crazy sneaking up on them at every turn, and was admittedly amazed that things were going as smoothly as they were.

The weather had begun warming considerably, bringing the implication of an early spring. Hanna, Spencer, Emily, and Aria took advantage of this, spending many an afternoon on the porch sipping coffee. Well, three of them, anyway – Hanna was still invariably cranky that her caffeine intake had to be limited during her pregnancy, constantly complaining about how sorely she missed coffee.

It was just one of the many things she was forced to adjust to. She had recently started falling victim to morning sickness, as well. Earlier that day Holmes had been awoken at the crack of dawn by Hanna scrambling wildly out of bed to rush to the bathroom. He had sat with her for nearly an hour, rubbing her back and yawning sleepily. He was quickly learning that her tolerance for nausea was significantly low, as she had bawled dramatically the entire time. He didn't mind, truthfully. Her body was going through such drastic changes that he couldn't really blame her. He just wanted to be there for her.

He hadn't told her about the call from Sergeant Decker yet. He had found himself coming close several times, but each opportunity was unceremoniously interrupted, and the moment passed him by. Hanna was quite busy, what with juggling classes, attending doctor appointments, and helping Aria and Emily finalize the details of their lease signing. He barely saw her lately, save for nighttime cuddling and the morning puke parties – neither of which screamed 'appropriate timing.'

Cavanaugh had been on his case about it, insisting that he was a fool. Holmes knew his intentions were well-mannered, but it didn't change how terrified he was to actually go through with the conversation.

"You have to tell her. The longer you wait, the more upset she'll be," Toby had reasoned.

And he knew it to be true. But the thought that he would be inevitably making her cry didn't exactly motivate him, either.

So when he found himself alone today, he tried to focus on how he was going to break the news. Spencer and Toby had gone upstairs to "take a nap" (cough-sex-cough), and Hanna had taken Aria and Emily to the closest Art Van outlet to look at furniture options. It was the quietest he had heard the place in months. It should have been the perfect time to plan it out. But the silence was damn near deafening, and all he could think about was how much homework he had to finish by Monday.

"Hanna, they're shipping me out," he muttered to himself, then shook his head dismissively. What was this, World War II? Nobody said that shit anymore.

"Hanna, it has come to my attention that my services are required overseas."

Yeah, okay. If he wanted her to claw his eyes out.

"Hanna…Uncle Sam is about to bend me over and have his way with me. No lube."

That was pretty close to the way he felt, but probably wouldn't fly.

He was still grumbling to himself when the doorbell rang. He paused for a moment, utterly perplexed. Nobody ever came by. And the people who did usually made a grander entrance than that. Like flying-to-Michigan-from-_Pennsylvania_ 'grand.'

It rang again, breaking him from his trance. "I'm coming!" he called, hopping to his feet. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to see when he pulled the door open, but it certainly wasn't the two people who stood before him.

"Jason," he breathed. "Shayla."

His sister and Spencer's brother were both standing awkwardly on the porch, as though bewildered at the other's presence.

"Funny story. Me and – uh – Jason, I guess," she began, utilizing the name she had just learned, "had to share a cab from the airport. Imagine my surprise when we both got out at the same place." Her eyes widened pointedly, as if searching for an explanation.

Holmes chuckled to himself, wishing he could have seen the looks on their faces as they both stared at one another bemusedly from opposite sides of the taxi.

"I wasn't expecting you for another month," he said in disbelief, pulling her inside to wrap her in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

He felt her grin into his neck. He may have been short, but somehow she was a good inch smaller than he was. "Quit that shit-ass job at the dance studio. They haven't paid me in months, anyway. Figured I'd come up to surprise you."

Holmes pulled away from her to see Jason still standing on the porch, looking substantially more uncomfortable than he had a moment ago. The two did not know each other very well – they had spent very little time together during the wedding and the planning.

"Hey, man," he offered, reaching out to put a hand on Jason's shoulder and guide him in. "What brings you here?"

"I, uh," he began uncertainly, suddenly very interested in adjusting the strap of his travel bag. "I came to see how Aria's doing."

It clicked into place in Holmes's brain instantaneously, and he felt a rush of empathy. Jason was basically in the exact same position that he, himself, had been in right after Hanna had broken up with Caleb.

"Right," he agreed quietly, hoping his brevity indicated that no further explanation was necessary. "Come on in. She should be back soon."

Jason and Shayla looked at one another hesitantly as Holmes closed the door behind them, and the metaphorical light bulb lit up in his brain.

"Oh. Jason, this is my sister, Shayla. Shayla, this is Spencer's brother, Jason."

Jason smiled politely as he reached a hand out to shake. "Nice to officially meet you."

She accepted it, and laughed lightly in return. "Likewise. If only we had actually struck up a conversation in the cab, we could have figured all of this out much sooner."

"Either of you want a drink?" Holmes inquired, leading them to the living room. "I know I have your favorite, Shayla – Bud Light?"

She grinned as she sat down delicately on the sofa. A lifetime of being a dancer made every move she made that much more graceful. "You know me all too well, Derry."

He smiled inwardly at the fond nickname. 'Derek' had been too difficult for her to say in her early years, but she had certainly done her damnedest to get it as close as possible. She rarely called him by his full name, even now.

"I'll have the same," Jason decided.

"I'm on it." Holmes made his way into the kitchen, hardly noticing the creaking of the stairs beside him.

"Jason?" Spencer's voice demanded in alarm.

"What brings you here?" Toby added. Out of the corner of his eye, Holmes could see both of them descending the steps two at a time.

He chanced a glance at Jason from over the bar counter, seeing that he was sheepishly looking at his folded hands in his lap. He felt immediately obliged to leap to his aid.

"He came out for a visit," he offered simply. "And that's my sister, Shayla."

Spencer and Toby made their way over to greet the newcomers properly. No sooner had they finished than the back door to the garage was swinging open.

"That couch is to die for. I can't wait to see how it looks when everything is all set up," Hanna was gushing as she, Aria, and Emily entered the house. She was about to dump her purse in its usual spot on the couch, before realizing that somebody was sitting there.

"Oh. Hello," she began shyly, not immediately putting two and two together as she studied Shayla.

"Jason?" Aria hissed, making long strides to rush over to him in a panic. The expression in his eyes had changed entirely upon seeing her. "Why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you," he replied simply. "Can I take you for coffee?"

"I – uh – sure, I guess so…" she stuttered uncertainly, looking as confused as Holmes used to feel in Calculus. She allowed Jason to place his hand on her lower back to guide her toward the door. "I'll be back in a while," she provided, still looking significantly lost. They were out the door before anyone had a chance to interpret what had happened.

"He's _your_ brother, right?" Shayla inquired, pointing at Spencer.

She nodded slowly.

"He's…lovely," Shayla stated, a teasing grimace creasing her features.

Spencer chuckled. "He's a man shrouded in mystery. I don't really even try to figure him out anymore."

The remaining introductions came and went as fluidly as possible. As Shayla sipped at her beer, Holmes took the time to study how much she had changed since he last saw her. Her hazel-green eyes – easily brighter than the rest of the family's – were still alight with her characteristic fire. She had cut her hair to a chin-length bob, spiking the shorter hair out in the back. It suited her better than any haircut he'd ever seen on her before, and he found himself wondering what took her so long to test it out. She was in as good of shape as ever, having worked as a dance trainer in the studio for the past year and a half. She may have hated the people she worked for, but he was well aware that it was the job of her dreams. The bump in the road that she had reached would not stop her from finding another position somewhere else.

Emily was immediately fascinated by her. They had been talking about dancing and swimming for something like 15 minutes now, as the remaining four stood crunched together in the kitchen, nonchalantly observing from above the bar counter. Shayla and Emily did not even appear to notice their absence.

"So…she's a lesbian, right?" Hanna murmured in undertones, squirming to find elbowroom. Holmes had one arm slung across her back as she peered over the counter, trying to save space.

"As gay as the day is long," Holmes replied.

"But she's so…_girly_," Hanna thought aloud. Spencer did her best to nudge her purposefully in their squished state.

"Don't be rude, Hanna. You're stereotyping."

"No, I don't mean to," Hanna insisted. "She's just…not what I was expecting."

Emily casually glanced in the direction of the bar, to which the four reacted by ducking down in unison. Hanna peeked after a beat, seeing that Emily had looked away, and they slowly rose up once more.

"I have to say, I did not see this coming," Toby whispered, wrapping his arms quietly around Spencer's waist and resting his chin atop her head to continue watching the scene unfolding before them.

"Of course you didn't," Spencer grumbled. "You thought she was in love with _you_."

"For the last time! I didn't actually think – "

"Shh!" Hanna spat, waving her hand impatiently in their direction. "I'm trying to hear what they're saying."

"This is ridiculous," Holmes decided at last, pulling away from the front row seat to lean back against the fridge. "That's my _sister_. I feel like I'm totally invading her privacy right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Hanna muttered dismissively. The intensity with which she was staring the two girls down made Holmes roll his eyes. The only thing missing was a pair of binoculars.

"Just let them talk," Holmes insisted. "Talking is harmless, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Toby began, cocking his head so as to look pointedly in Holmes's direction. "Yeah, it really is. Talking about something is totally harmless. And important, too."

Holmes glared at him from behind Hanna, squaring his jaw and shaking his head in warning. The girls didn't seem to notice the bizarre way in which Toby had replied.

"How cute would they be together?" Hanna gushed, perching her chin in her hands.

Spencer sighed. "Easy there, Han. You've already got your hands full with Jason and Aria."

"But I'm the best matchmaker ever," Hanna continued. "I find them a find, and catch them a catch."

"That line is straight out of _Fiddler on the Roof_," Spencer mused, curling one side of her mouth upward in bewilderment. "When did you _ever_ see that?"

Hanna ignored her. "I have the perfect couple name for them, too. Shaymily!"

"That literally contains the word '_shame_'," Spencer argued. "Doesn't exactly inspire romantic walks on the beach."

"CAN WE FOCUS?" Holmes pleaded in a loud whisper. All three turned their heads to survey him, as if surprised he was even still there.

"What crawled up your ass?" Hanna scoffed indignantly.

_Uncle Sam, apparently. With no lube, _he thought to himself, silently repeating himself from earlier. He shook his head to deflect the thought.

"I just think this is ludicrous," he insisted, squeezing past them to exit. "Not a single one of us would enjoy being watched like this, and you know it. I'm going to find something else to do, and I suggest all of you do the same."

He had expected some degree of disappointment from the girls, but when he noted the slight pout on Toby's dejected face, he was baffled.

"Seriously?" he demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders. "C'mon. Out."

"All right, all right," Hanna conceded irritably. "It's fine. I wanted to take a bath, anyway."

That patronizing look was back on Toby's face. Holmes knew precisely what he was getting at, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he was probably right on target. He had been waiting for alone time with Hanna to talk properly. This was his perfect opportunity.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll come with you."

"Did _not_ need to know that," Spencer muttered, creeping out of the room with her hands balled into uncomfortable fists at her sides.

"No, go ahead," Toby urged. "Spencer and I will help Emily keep Shayla company."

"What? I didn't agree to that," Spencer whined. "I'm so bad at striking up conversation with strangers…"

"You'll get over it," Toby said bluntly, tugging on her hand to return to the living room.

Holmes and Hanna stood there uncertainly for a moment before she smiled warmly and intertwined her fingers with his.

"C'mon," she said quietly. "The tub awaits."

He allowed her to lead him up the stairs, forcing a smile as she glanced at him over her shoulder. She was expecting some sort of romantic rendezvous.

But what she was getting instead was an earth-shattering atomic bomb. He was about to ruin her life forever.


End file.
